


The Rites of Courtship

by calibratingentropy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Rituals, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Imprisonment, Keith Believes He's Intersex, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith has Galra Reproductive Anatomy, Keith has Three Parents, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Possible Mpreg, Quad-sexed Ovoviviparous Marsupial Galra, Scent Kink, Scents & Smells, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-04-24 12:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 92,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14355651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calibratingentropy/pseuds/calibratingentropy
Summary: During the raid on the Galactic Hub, Keith is captured alongside Allura. Trapped amid a multitude of Galra who think Keith smells like sex and have every intention of forcibly taking what they want, Keith has to rely on the one Galra soldier who seems to want to help him. Choosing a consort through an ancient Galran rite is much better than the alternative, but it still means sex with a virtual stranger that Keith isn't sure he can trust. This is just a temporary thing until his friends can arrive to help him escape; Keith can do this. (He's really not sure he can do this.)





	1. The Capture

**Author's Note:**

> This was started as self indulgent xenokink for a rare pair. It grew a plot and exponentially in length. Anything between Keith and Thace is as consensual as they can manage, but it's still a "fuck or die" situation, so tagging it as dubius. 
> 
> Also, Galra are ovoviviparous marsupials with four sexes and fairly complicated reproduction, involving 2-4 parents and multiple offspring as a rule. Keith has no idea about this at first, and believes he's just an intersex human.
> 
> Updates are planned for once a week, but may come faster if I finish the fic (it's about 4/5ths done right now).

Keith had the container of the quint-whatever in hand when he was suddenly keenly aware of something being very _very_ wrong. The creepy dude wasn’t where it had just been a second ago, and then there was a voice hissing in his ear. “Your scent gives you away.” 

Time and memory condensed down into isolated snapshots, just barely strung in an order that made sense. Attacking, defending, lightning. Calling Pidge for backup. His hand screaming in pain and turning _purple_. The container breaking and dousing him in gold liquid that made him feel like he could take on the universe. The arrival of Pidge and his escape route—

Pain arcing up his spine and that voice hissing in his ear again. “Oh no, young one, you don’t get to _leave_.” 

Everything went black.

* * *

Keith came aware in stages, with the first being a constant sense of motion that made his stomach twist on itself queasily. In short order he was also aware of his wrists and ankles being bound together and something clamped viselike under his arms. Hands. He was being dragged, and too dizzy to do a thing about it. 

There were voices. “—smells so tempting. Think we could sneak a sniff or maybe even cop a feel?” 

“Did you see the way the Commander looked at them?” Something else was being said but it made no sense to Keith’s brain, or maybe the translator. Then suddenly things made sense again. “—and rip out our ovotestes with his _teeth_.” 

There was a grunt that sounded dismissive to Keith and the hiss of a door panel opening. Keith felt himself being hefted up higher, and the voice sounding so much closer. “Hmph, I still bet I could make them trill for me.” 

“You couldn’t make a whore trill for you. Come on, shove them in the cell before you start getting ideas.” 

“Just one sniff—“ Suddenly Keith was hauled back against armor and there was— was a _face_ pressing against the back of his neck. There was a moment of cold as whoever it was inhaled, and then a hot, damp rush against that spot as— Fuck. Ew!

Revulsion made his stomach revolt even harder, and Keith managed to jam his heels back into what he hoped was a knee and was rewarded with being dropped in a heap on the floor and a yell. He wasn’t going to let _anyone_ touch him, dammit—

He made it two hops with his shackled ankles before something roughly grasped the back of his neck and he was thrown. The door hissed closed and it was suddenly dark. 

“Keith!” Allura? But it was her. Keith would recognize the effervescent scent that clung to her skin anywhere. 

Keith groaned and tried to get up, but was still too dizzy to get anywhere with his hands and feet bound. Allura’s arms wound about him and helped him prop himself against a wall. Her voice was shaky as she pushed his hair back out of his face—where had his helmet gone? “Keith, are you… okay? Did they do anything?” 

“You mean besides trying to huff my neck?” Keith dipped his head to his shoulder, trying to figure out if he smelled different, but nothing in particular was? He thought? “What was that even about?” 

Allura went very still, and then coughed abruptly. “Well, about that… Um, Galra have a particularly sensitive sense of smell and I hesitate to ask— I’m not very familiar with human cycles, you see, but, ah… Do you happen to be fertile, right now?” 

Keith froze. Words spoken by cold, clinical voices that he’d tried so hard to bury tried to surge forward. Sterile. Intersex. They could cut him up, cut him out, sew the pieces back together to fashion a sort-of-normal vagina—oh, but a functioning dick just wouldn’t be possible, not with his complete lack of erectile tissue. And he’d never even have pain free sex the way he was built, so sorry. “No, I’m not. I can’t— My DNA is all fucked up. It’s not possible.” 

Keith could barely see it, but Allura winced. “Um, then maybe Galra just think humans smell… nice.” 

That wasn’t the word she had been intending and they both knew it. Keith had a flash of Shiro’s panic-filled scent, strapped down by the Garrison— God, what else had the Galra done to him, if that was true? 

“Maybe.” Keith didn’t say anything more, and silence settled. Allura hugged her knees to her chest, and Keith closed his eyes. Better to rest while they could…

* * *

Sudden light from the door woke Keith up with a start. He scrambled, using the wall to support getting to his feet, and barely managed. Fucking shackles. There was laughter, and a Galra with brightly colored chest-plate standing in the door. 

“So it’s true; this pretty little thing must be _desperate_ to be bred to be putting off such a potent scent.” 

Allura made an insulted noise, but any further action on either of their parts was stopped by a pair of sentries that came through holding fully primed energy rifles. The Galra had a long, thin face, with features sharp enough to cut, and came straight for Keith, ignoring Allura entirely. Part of Keith was glad she was being ignored. But another part was vividly remembering the mouth and nose against his neck, and the body pressed against his back and something cold formed in his chest at the thoughts. 

“Fuck you.” Keith snapped, desperately trying to gauge angles. Maybe he could dart (hop) between them and out the door—

The Galra snorted, a hand snapping out toward’s Keith’s face. He ducked, but a claw caught his skin in the process, leaving a hot, stinging line across his forehead. “Other way around, pretty little thing. You’ve got fire, but I bet you’ll be trilling for me before I even get inside. Shame the Emperor wants to see you right away; I can’t give you more than a sample right now.” 

Nope. No. No way. Keith found himself baring his teeth at the comment, desperately trying to hold still and not give in to the urge to be away. Closer—

Now! He dropped with a twist, landing painfully on his shackled hands. But it was enough, and on the swing, he got his legs hooked around the back of the Galra’s calves. The Galra fell, landing hard, and Keith let his momentum carry him around, twisting his wrist so badly he gasped from it. Ignore it. Push off the wall with his feet, tuck into a roll, get out and hit the door control—

“Allura!” 

Keith got through half of that plan before he had to duck one of the rifles aimed at his head. It fucked with his balance, and he couldn’t dodge the other. Allura let out a short cry from behind him as Keith went down, but he wasn’t going to give up. He wasn’t going to let that asshole touch him!

Something bit down around his calf like iron, and his attempt to kick it off ended up flipping Keith to his back. The Galra had hold of him, grinning in a way that made Keith feel ill, and Keith aimed his shackled fists at that too smug face. The Galra was able to lean back in time, and then caught the shackles to drive Keith’s wrists painfully to the floor. A knee pushed equally painfully between his thighs, forcing the Galra’s weight heavy and immovable on top of his pelvis. The Galra was hovering over him, and Keith had no viable way to fight back. His thoughts went into a white blankness of terror before the anger surged up and he struggled anyway. No. No. _No!_

Allura yelled, but there was a dull thud, followed by the sharp clatter of an armor-clad body hitting the floor. She groaned a second later, indicating she’d only been knocked back, and the part of Keith that wasn’t rapid cycling between fear and fury was distantly glad she wasn’t hurt. 

The Galra groaned, pressed his weight against Keith harder, and then rubbed his face against Keith’s neck. Keith’s stomach pitched and rolled. God no. There was a deep breath followed by a hot, wet exhale, and the Galra laughed. “As soon as the Emperor is done with you, I’m going to pin you against the nearest surface and fuck you so deeply you lose the capacity for language. You already smell like sex, just imagine how much more attention you’ll get, threaded full with my cock and trilling for me.” 

The Galra’s ear was right _there_ , flicking back and forth as the filthy bastard huffed against Keith’s neck. He was _not_ going to go down without a fight, so he stretched and _bit_. His teeth had always been a little long, a tiny bit sharper than they should be, and Keith tasted blood. The Galra’s disgusting dirty talk scaled up into a high pitched scream— 

Pain burst from his temple, and Keith was vaguely aware of sliding across the floor from the force of… whatever, his vision graying. 

The next thing he was really aware of, Keith was being picked up, and the purple light against his closed eyelids _hurt_. It wasn’t clawed hands gripping and jerking him around; instead whoever it was had gotten arms under his shoulders and knees and was pulling him towards an armored? chest. Keith had a sudden, half-delirious thought that it was Shiro, but the scent was all wrong. Shiro’s scent was warm and solid, with overtones of fresh and clean from his preferred body wash, and since he had returned, always tinged with sharp bitter tang of exhaustion and almost paranoid vigilance. 

This scent was also warm, but in a more spicy way, and Keith got a nose full of it because he’d turned his face to the person’s shoulder during that half-delirious moment. Another breath gave him a dose of the particular musk that he’d long since realized was Galra. Oh. _Oh_. Fuck—!

His struggles only got him a renewed surge of dizziness and pain, along with a burst of nausea so intense that all Keith could do was turn his head to the side to vomit on the floor. When he was panting from the aftermath, a calm, measured voice sounded somewhere above his head. “You have a head injury, and possible mild trauma to your spinal column. Remain still to avoid further injury to yourself.” 

He’d almost been expecting more sexually charged language, so the cool assessment of his health was actually enough to make Keith still. He sagged, wishing he had something to sip to get the taste out of his mouth, or a painkiller for his head or—

“You!” The Galra that had been all over him. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

The mysterious Galra holding him spoke again. “Commander Throk, the Emperor ordered the Red Paladin brought immediately and without further injury. Tend to your ear; I will complete the task.” 

“Lieutenant,” Throk the bastard hissed, “those orders were given to me specifically!” 

“And I will inform the Emperor of how and why you failed to complete them yourself.” Mysterious Galra replied. “At the moment, you have more important concerns than prisoner escort, such as preventing the impending escape of the Altean Princess.” 

There was a rough shout from Allura and a sharp metallic sound and— Moving. Moving was very bad. Keith groaned and put all his focus on not vomiting again.

* * *

Keith had no idea how long the movement lasted, but he was ridiculously glad it stopped, at least until he heard a rumble that sent jagged shards of ice forming around his heart. He tried to keep his breathing even and his body limp. Maybe if they thought he was unconscious, they’d let something slip.

“So this is the Red Paladin.” 

“Yes, Emperor. I have brought them as commanded.” 

Keith had to struggle not to hold his breath and freeze on instinct. It wouldn’t help and they’d know he was awake. Emperor Zarkon? Oh fuck, fuck— 

“I gave that order to Commander Throk; why have you brought them?” The Emperor’s voice didn’t even sound curious, like asking was a formality. 

Also why did the translators keep giving Keith “them” when the Galra were talking about him?

Mysterious Galra smelled almost… amused. Maybe. But his voice was bland and neutral. “Commander Throk was having difficulty restraining both prisoners, and the Paladin was injured in that fiasco. I left Commander Throk to finish securing the Princess in the cell.” 

There was a bark of laughter from a new, unfamiliar voice. “Failure to secure a prisoner with all limbs shackled? How weak! What led to _that_ spectacular failure, Lieutenant Thace?” 

So the mystery Galra was named Thace. Keith didn’t know what he could do with that through the pounding of his head, but he latched onto the information. Thace answered the question crisply, and Keith almost smiled through the pain at the condemnation he heard in the Galra’s voice. He felt almost safe, relatively. 

“Commander Throk was more interested in trying to fuck the Paladin than bringing them where ordered, Commander Prorok.” 

More laughter, from more voices, although not Zarkon. The Prorok guy started talking again. “That is precisely why I made my suggestion, my Emperor! Perhaps giving them to my crew for stress release will run counter to your plans, but you could give the Paladin to a select few of your most loyal commanders to be conquered and bred, and then perhaps to outstanding lower ranked soldiers as a reward. It will improve morale, and—“ 

Voices cut in, saying different things, mostly in support, but one voice sounded almost disgusted and was talking about how the suggestion tainted the grand and honorable traditions of the Empire. 

“Enough!” Zarkon’s voice thundered, bringing all the chatter to a stop, and didn’t do anything to help the pulse of fear that went through Keith. “I have said that I will consider it once the rest of Voltron has been lured in, and the Lions are in my possession.” 

“But Emperor, there is already restlessness among the soldiers. Tales of the Paladin’s scent have become more exaggerated by the—“ 

“I said, enough!” Zarkon growled. 

Keith tried not to react to the information. Showing fear would just— Oh _god_. They were all talking about just passing him around to a whole bunch of soldiers and he couldn’t fight back with his head hurting and so dizzy and oh shit oh fuck—

Thace’s voice was so quiet that Keith hardly heard it over the pounding of his rapid heartbeat in his ears, perfectly in time with jagged lightning strikes of pain behind his eyes. Or it seemed like it. 

“If I may make a suggestion, what about initiating the Rites of Courtship? It will give the restless soldiers a chance to prove their prowess to and be chosen by the Paladin and—“ 

Several voices raised incredulous protests. One called it weak, another said something about sentimentality and another said these Rites were too good for a half-breed whelp (what?). But that one voice among the many that had protested before was agreeing, stridently. Keith’s head pounded and suddenly he didn’t feel as relatively safe anymore. 

“And more importantly, the Red Lion has been given to almost every Commander in the fleet for a chance to earn glory for them or their subordinates by being chosen to pilot. Not one has ever been chosen in spite of hundreds of thousands of attempts, but if the beginnings of a consort bond can be formed between the Paladin and a worthy soldier of the Empire…” 

“The Paladin’s loyalties will become split, and Voltron will be weakened from within. Very well, I will allow it, but if it fails, the chosen soldier and the Paladin both will be given to the soldiers of the fleet for stress release as was Prorok’s original suggestion.” 

Keith felt a little sick in a way that had nothing to do with his aching head, but at the same time, if it was actually fair… who said he had to choose anyone? Maybe he could use this. Stall for time, at the very least. 

Thace spoke again. “In order to adequately complete the Combat Rite, the Paladin’s injuries should be healed. Permission to take them to the medical bay?”

“See it done. Quickly.” 

Then they were moving again, and it was all Keith could do to keep from actually passing out. He needed to think, to plan, to—

A curt, robotic voice broke the relative silence, and Thace spent some time explaining quietly the situation. Keith noticed that Thace was stressing the Emperor’s desire that Keith be brought up to full strength, when Zarkon had said no such thing. 

Interesting. Keith was still pondering that when the painkillers kicked in and he had to fight exhaustion to stay awake.


	2. The Medical Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early because I'm impatient and a commenter asked about something that gets answered in this chapter. And I enjoy answering commenters' questions! So, here you go, everybody. 
> 
> I really will wait a week before next chapter. Really.

At some point, he failed, and he woke up with a startle at someone grunting and a nasty thump. He slit his eyes open a crack to see another Galra nearby, head smushed into what might be a table or counter. 

A voice, Thace’s voice, snarled. “What are you doing?” 

The unfamiliar Galra struggled, and Keith realized that Thace was forcing him down into that position. “I-I! Look, we all know they’ll go to one of the Commanders! I thought if I could make it seem like they’d chosen me before the—“ 

Thace let the Galra up. “The Paladin can’t choose while asleep.” 

“Like their choice _really_ matters,” the Galra scoffed, “We all know they’ll be given to the first one that defeats them in combat! This whole thing is just a way to make them think they’re choosing so that bonding hormones—“

That was when Thace hit the other Galra, _hard_. He staggered and groaned, swearing something that didn’t translate and Keith saw him reaching behind his back for— Weapon! Keith shot up, realizing his legs were no longer shackled at the same time he’d moved to slam his heels against the Galra’s face. He scissored his legs around the Galra’s neck instead, bending the asshole backwards over the metal surface he’d been laying on. The Galra choked out words that Keith didn’t care to understand, and Thace relieved him of the weapon that had skittered across the metal at Keith’s action. 

“My choice _matters_ ,” Keith hissed. “Now you’d better give me a good reason not to kill you for breaking the rules like this!” 

At least he hoped to hell there were rules involved in this rite thing, because he was bullshitting like hell. The Galra, eyes bulging, struggled weakly, making garbled attempts at words. 

Thace watched solemnly for a long moment and then made a comment that sounded careless, but something about his scent told Keith it sure as hell wasn’t. “By letting them live, they’re obligated to spread the word that you are willingly engaging in the Rites, and will also abide by the rules. And that most importantly, you _will_ make a choice by the end of it.” 

Keith’s stomach _sank_ , but it made sense. It did. He just really didn’t like it. (And why the hell was he believing this guy he didn’t even know?) So he let the asshole go, and after the other Galra scrambled out of the room he turned to Thace, wobbling a little as he sat up. One of Thace’s hands steadied him, warm and solid at his elbow. He was an enemy, but at the same time, Keith needed some kind of edge. “So since you so helpfully suggested this rite thing, what is it and what are the rules?” 

“The Rites of Courtship are highly formalized and public rituals wherein the Galra involved act out different aspects of courtship,” Thace began, then stopped like he was trying to puzzle something out.

Keith was just about to try to prompt him to say more when Thace started up again. “Generally, courtship is a private affair when the Galra involved want to bond more permanently instead of forming easily dissolved partnerships. So the Rites are only called upon when there are very high stakes resting on the outcome. Situations such as political consorts or soldiers of the very highest rank all but require the Rites, and as a Paladin of Voltron, you have the right to demand them because all the previous Paladins were granted high status almost equal to the Emperor himself, regardless of their heritage.”

Thace glanced at Keith and continued when Keith nodded. “In history, there were as many as thirty seven separate Rites, and they could take decades to complete. Both the courted and the suitors were required to participate in each Rite, could reject each other at the end of each stage of the process. The courted did have more power, to set the level of minimum accomplishment, or even refuse a suitor on bad behavior, but suitors could also withdraw their claim if the courted didn’t meet their own standards. The Rites were designed so that the numbers were reduced until there were only two or three suitors for the final Rite, that of Combat.” 

Keith fought not to let his eyes glaze over at the explanation. Okay, that thing about decades could be used in his favor, if—“So how many do I get?” 

Thace didn’t look at him. “Two, or three at best. Several of the commanders have suggested that it should only be the Rite of Combat.” 

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Keith said slowly. He had been very confident in his skills, until the Altean Gladiator. He was still good, he knew that, but most of the assholes would be career soldiers that had decades of experience on him. 

“It isn’t,” Thace spoke so quietly that Keith almost missed it, “But it is the better option. You will be expected to abide by the rules, and your choice will be made forfeit if you break them, but any Commanders or higher will be given leave to break rules so long as it isn’t flagrant.” 

Well shit. Of course it would be stacked against him. Fine. It wasn’t like he hadn’t clawed his way up from the very bottom of the heap more than once before. Keith swallowed, realizing suddenly that he was in some kind of jumpsuit and not his armor. It wasn’t uncomfortable, at least, but… ugh. Somebody had seen him naked. But nevermind, couldn’t focus on that. “Do I get to choose which rites?” 

“Traditionally, yes, you should choose,” Thace closed his eyes for a moment, “but you will likely be chosen for, on account of supposed ignorance. You may be able to speak up on your own behalf, and cite your status as a very highly sought after courted to choose one Rite. But I can’t guarantee it.” 

“Let’s say I can pull that off. What can I even choose from?” Keith felt like he was flying blind here. He hated flying blind. 

Thace muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘where to start?’ “Don’t choose Rite of Resources. The Red Lion will count among yours, but it will also immediately disqualify anyone below the rank of Commander at least. You are… more likely to find sympathy among the lower ranks.” 

Yeah, no, Keith did not want to be limited to only the Commander assholes. At least Sendak was gone, but… Ugh. “No Resources, right. Is there one of these rites for skills or something? Piloting, maybe?” 

Was that a smile? Keith thought it was a smile, but it was gone too quick to make sure. Why was he feeling happy that Thace was maybe smiling? But Thace was definitely nodding. “If there is a particular skill you place high value on, you can call on a Rite of Skill yes, and for a Paladin, piloting would be considered one such important skill. But you’ll need to specify that it take place in the simulators, or there will be suspicion of a planned escape attempt. And you _won’t_ be shown how the controls work before the Rite starts.” 

He’d come out on top with worse disadvantages. “I can deal if I need to, but if I could get a look beforehand that’d be helpful. So, tell me about this Combat Rite.” 

“It’s fairly straightforward. You’ll be allowed to choose the weapon, and should be able to bring your own, but I doubt you’ll be allowed the Bayard unless someone lobbies strongly on your behalf. It is one on one combat until one fighter yields or is too exhausted to continue.”

Thace sighed, “But there are ways to trip up and lose regardless of skill. Killing or maiming blows are technically against the rules, but don’t expect to not face them. You’ll be expected to ask for yield upon disarming or sufficiently cornering an opponent, or demonstrating that you could have landed a killing or maiming blow. A suitor technically isn’t allowed to refuse to yield, but again, Commanders and higher will probably be given leeway. You will be allowed to refuse, and traditionally expected to do so twice before yielding to your final choice deliberately. Don’t expect to be asked, however, as being put in a position where yield should be asked for with a Commander will probably be called your yield even if you can say out loud that you refuse.” Thace said that last sentence with a small grimace, and Keith gulped. 

“So I can’t screw up, not even once.” Damn. He… wasn’t going to get out of this. Probably. “What happens after?” 

He didn’t think he really wanted to know, but he had to ask. Thace pointedly looked away. “If you’re defeated by or forced to yield to a Commander or higher… Most of them will rape you on the spot as a display of their power. True traditionalists will expect consummation in front of a small, select group of politically important witnesses. Others will want more privacy, but expect immediate consummation. Fewer may offer food or a chance to bathe first, and might even allow a short rest, but the Emperor has put high stakes on failure, so… don’t expect to _not_ consummate.” 

Thace paused awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Anyone serious about the courtship will at least attempt to see to your comfort and pleasure.” 

Keith laughed, but it came out sounding more like a sob. “So I really am fucked either way. Some choice.” 

God damn it. Dammit, dammit, dammit! Keith muttered quiznak under his breath for good measure. But unless Thace was trying to sabotage him, he’d been extraordinarily helpful, and down the first road lay madness. He should… “Thanks. I just… This sucks. And why are you helping me anyway?” 

“Rape is _vile_ ,” Thace snarled the word out, and Keith was surprised to see ears under that thick fur on his head press back. Keith… Keith believed it. It didn’t help much, but he believed it. Thace continued with more control but his ears were still pressed back. “I know this situation isn’t much better, but it was the best I could manage and it does buy you time.” 

That was unexpected. The only thing to really buy him time for was escape or rescue, but maybe since Thace hated rape like that, he’d take rescue by the enemies of his … everything over dooming Keith to that kind of torture. Keith wasn’t sure whether or not he should feel touched about that. 

“So are you gonna do the suitor thing or—?” Oh fuck, why did he even ask that? 

Thace looked at Keith for a very long moment before asking, more cautious than Keith had seen him so far. “Do you want me to?” 

Did he? “…Maybe?” Keith took a deep breath, feeling weird and shivery and all but _naked_ in the unfamiliar jumpsuit. Did he really? Know what? Fuck it. Better to have the guy who cared enough to even try to help than just about anyone else. “I… yeah. I do. You seem like a decent guy, for a soldier of an Empire that’s enslaving pretty much the entire universe. And I think I can trust you not to intentionally hurt me if you—“ Keith choked on ‘fuck me’ and changed tactics after the coughing fit, “—win.” 

Thace stared at Keith for a long moment, nostrils flaring, and the warm spicy musk of his scent invading Keith’s nose in a kinda good way. Then he nodded once, abruptly. “Then I will fight to be included among your suitors.” 

He turned on his heel abruptly before Keith could say anything else, struck silent by a sudden tingly and almost electric feeling down in his groin. Oh. Oh okay. Hearing a very alien guy he’d known for what, a couple hours at this point, seriously promise to court him had just turned him on. That was fine. Just fine—

Who was he kidding? He was so very fucked.

* * *

The nurse-bot (or doctor-bot, whatever) showed up not long after Thace left to declare that Keith would be functioning at one hundred precent after a rest period, and apparently the Rites would start when he woke up. Something small was inserted into his back where he couldn’t reach it, and Keith was informed that it was a tracker that would sedate him if he left the med bay. Great. Just _great_. 

Keith was led to an absolutely cramped not-hospital room with a bed that made him feel tiny, and left alone in the dark. He tossed and turned and tried to tell the thoughts plaguing him to fuck off, but nothing worked. He was going to fight for his life, and then have to have sex right after. He was going to lose his virginity tomorrow. Well, if his two disastrous attempts at dating didn’t count. He didn’t _think_ they did (sure as hell didn’t want to call the second attempt his first time). Oh god. And it was probably going to hurt like hell, even if he got lucky and it was Thace (was there anyone else that even counted as nice on this damn ship?). 

Thace. 

Well fine then, if he couldn’t push the thoughts away, he’d think about it. Thace was purple. Which he wasn’t sure he liked at all right now, but purple aside, he was kind of attractive, Keith guessed? He had a well defined jaw, and that little goatee, and broad shoulders, and honestly Keith figured he had to be ripped under the armor. His hands had been warm, and he smelled pretty great if Keith was being honest…

Okay, yeah, Thace was attractive, and Keith chewed a little on his lip, visualizing Thace behind his closed eyelids. Keith tried to imagine what it would be like if Thace leaned down to kiss him, but it sputtered out uselessly because Keith’s brain was wired wrong and kissing was an anti-turn-on. Instead he got a flash of memory. Thace snarling and forcing that Galra down, _defending_ Keith. O _kay_ , so maybe that was a turn on that he was never, ever going to admit to anybody _ever_. 

A spark of curiosity led Keith to imagining fighting _with_ Thace, maybe against the Castle Gladiato—yup. The gasp that tore out of him and the way his thighs fell open against his conscious control had been probably more of a surprise than it should have been. Keith hissed a breath between clenched teeth and imagined ticking off a little mental box beside ‘having my back in a fight.’ What did that qualify as? Trust-kink?

Didn’t matter. Keith felt warm between his legs, little tingles of arousal running over his skin and— deeper. He fussed with the jumpsuit and got his hand on skin, trying to ignore how weird he was that the skin over his stomach didn’t quite connect to the muscle beneath. It slid and stretched under his fingers, feeling good in a way that Keith really didn’t want to think about as he got his hand down farther. 

The first touch of his fingertips to damp (slick, _wet_ ) skin had Keith arching his back and exhaling loudly through his nose. He just cupped the whole thing with palm and fingers, trying, and not quite successfully imagining it as Thace’s hand, rubbing down slowly until his breath was coming out in stuttering gasps. Felt good. Electric. He could feel a point of pressure as his dick… swelled, he guessed, against the heel of his hand, popping out from where it was usually hidden in what Keith privately thought of as a sheath, which was like an animal-term but whatever. He pushed his other hand down to palm at the thin, velvety length and squeeze the little bumps at the tip. It was weirdly shaped for a dick, really long and barely thicker than his thumb, and never, ever got hard like a dick was supposed to, but it still felt really good to grip it, and sometimes, if Keith was really turned on, it’d move on its own and curl between his fingertips. It also got as slick as the rest of him, so it really was too bad that he couldn’t get hard. Keith thought that a self-lubricating dick would make sex so much _better_ for everybody.

But his dick wasn’t the only place feeling hot and flushed and _wet_ and begging to be touched. Keith didn’t want to, but at the same time he did. He’d have to take a dick up there tomorrow. Probably. Unless he got to top or a lady decided to get involved? 

It was connected to the sheath, expanding up and out like his dick did, and making… Keith didn’t know. One of the cruder doctors had called it a fused vulva, but it wasn’t that, it couldn’t be. Keith had looked it up once, and vulva didn’t have muscles in there, and there were, definitely. But there was a hole that led to the v— the _vagina_ an ultrasound said he had. Fluid burbled out when he pushed a fingertip in making everything a slippery wonderful mess, and Keith ground his teeth together. If felt so good, but also completely frustrating. His finger wasn’t long enough, and even straining only let him brush a fingertip at one of the really sensitive spots that he _wanted_ touched, and if he pressed _up_ Keith swore he could feel the pressure against the base of his dick and— Please, _please_ —

A whine (a chirp, that’s what it really was) built up in his chest, and even knowing it wouldn’t help him chase the pleasure, Keith wiggled until he got another finger in beside the first. It was _too tight_ , leaving him feeling unpleasantly stretched, and hovering on the edge of pain, and he really couldn’t take any more. Keith knew it. He palmed his dick until all he could hear was his heart thundering in his ears and tried a third anyway. He couldn’t wiggle it in past the very very tip, so he tried to force it past and yanked his hand fully away when the pain flared up, sizzling and sharp like a knife. His frustration came out in almost a sob, but his dick in his palm was flooding him with the good kind of sizzle, and Keith whined (chirped) past clenched teeth as he came, leaving a coating of thin cloudy fluid on his hand. 

He rolled to his side as the shivery aftershocks fluttered through him and pulled his knees to his chest. Like whenever he tried to play with his v—hole, he was left feeling worked up with no way to come down, and the frustration pricked heat at his eyelids. He couldn’t do this. He _couldn’t_. 

“Shiro,” he whispered into the dark, “guys, where are you? Really could use a rescue soon.”


	3. The Rites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is alternatively "spot the cameos." There's one OC, but all the others appear at least once on the show.

Keith woke up to a mechanical voice insisting he needed to dress, to find a sentry standing at the door (open, _why_ ) with a pile of armor in its mechanical arms. Keith took it dumbly, not fully awake yet, palmed the door control shut without a thought and fought not to groan out loud. He was feeling crusty between his thighs and there was a thrum of low level _want_ when he squeezed them together. A quick search proved there wasn’t a shower, only a toilet (thankfully) but there was what he assumed was space wet wipes, and he felt marginally cleaner after using them. 

The armor was _Galran_ , which made him want to storm out and demand his Paladin armor back. He almost did but the presence of his Bayard on top, and hidden inside the bodysuit that went beneath the armor, a tablet and his _knife_ , made him stop. With a moment of warm shock and butterflies suddenly doing flips in his stomach, Keith realized he could smell Thace. Oh. 

Miraculously, considering that they were all at least a foot taller than him, the armor fit like a glove. It felt _wrong_ , but at the same time, Keith could tell that he could move just as freely in it as he could in his Paladin armor. There wasn’t a convenient hiding space for his knife, but after a minute or two experimenting, Keith figured out how to hook the sheath and his Bayard to his waist.

After that, he set himself down on the edge of the bed to look at the tablet. There was water and a bowl of purple colored food goo resting on the little stand by the bed too, and to Keith’s surprise it tasted _good_ (comparatively), kind of like a bland, low sodium gravy. It was so much better than Altean goo, though. He actually licked the spoon clean while he was finishing up with the tablet. He still couldn’t read Galran, but it also included a voiceover (Thace’s voice, huh), and it was instructions for the simulators. But once that was done there was nothing else to do but finish off the water and leave. 

Time to do this (he couldn’t do this). Keith pressed his hand against the door panel and the sentry was standing in the exact position he’d left it. With a curt command to follow, it started leading Keith out of the med bay, and at the edge, Keith hesitated, remembering the warning about the whatever-it-was that had been stuck in his back. 

The sentry stopped, beeped, and then explained flatly. “The tracker’s range has been reprogrammed to extend to the area that the Rite will take place in.” 

Oh, okay. So Keith followed, keenly aware of the eyes on him from every actual Galra, and wanting so badly to draw his Bayard and slice a couple who were practically drooling. He was led to what was unmistakably a training deck, and something low inside his pelvis coiled up like a spring suddenly. 

There were maybe three dozen Galra arrayed in neat lines on the other side of the clear area. Keith spotted Thace immediately, but also that asshole Throk, who was openly leering at him. Also a Galra he swore was a lady, and for a split second, Keith thought that maybe he could do sex with a lady Galra, but then he saw the bright chest plate and realized she was a _Commander_. Nope! 

The creepy asshole in the multi-eyed mask stepped forward and Keith fought a flinch. Then it spoke and Keith suddenly knew that there was more than one creepy asshole. “The Red Paladin has agreed to undergo the Rites of Courtship and choose a consort from among these worthy soldiers. The Rite will be Combat with the sword, in deference to the Red Paladin’s preferred weapon, and the Galra who defeats them will win the right to claim the—“ 

“Wait just a tick!” At least that came out with more authority than Keith felt right now. He stepped forward, glaring, and vaguely hearing murmurs coming from up above. Oh. A crowd watching from a gallery or whatever. There were so _many_. But he couldn’t let that stop him. 

“I _know_ that there’s more than one Rite, and as courted and the Paladin of the Red Lion, I get to choose one _before_ we finish with Combat.” 

The murmuring picked up in volume, and creepy asshole started to protest. A rumble cut it off. Zarkon. “What Rite do you choose, Red Paladin?” 

He sounded almost reasonable, and Keith swallowed against a suddenly dry mouth. “Rite of Skill. Piloting.” Keith almost stopped there but remembered Thace’s advice. “I know you’ve got to have simulators somewhere. Those’ll work. They aren’t worthy if they aren’t at least as skilled as me.” 

The murmurs stopped suddenly, and Throk was glaring murder at him. The creepy asshole waved a hand, and Keith got the impression it was feeling out of its depth. Then Zarkon nodded once. “So be it. The first Rite will be Rite of Skill as a pilot, and the challenge set will be to better or match their skill.” 

Feeling almost giddy, Keith let himself be led to a bank of small booths. What he saw inside was ever so much more streamlined than anything they’d had at the Garrison, and thanks to the tablet, he knew what the Galran symbols stood for, even if he couldn’t actually read them. A flat voice announced the simulation level and the objective and Keith was gone. 

It wasn’t real, but it felt more real than any simulator he’d been in before, and responded more smoothly than anything but the Red Lion ever had. There was more to monitor, without a crew to work with (but he’d never been good at that to begin with), but it was good. It was a rush. Keith’s hands flew over the controls, and he fired weapons and executed quick turns that left his stomach flipping pleasantly, and he almost groaned in regret when the same flat voice announced a successful simulation. 

He got out, realizing with a surge of embarrassment that he was _wet_ between his thighs. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, (the first time he’d piloted Red had been intense), but he’d never been this turned on before just from piloting. He could almost smell the tangy musky scent that always came when he jerked off. 

Then the lady Commander got out of the booth next to him, and her nostrils flared. The scent wasn’t just his imagination then. She hummed, words thick and heavy like a rough caress. “I didn’t believe you _wanted_ the Rites, Paladin, but you do, don’t you?” 

Keith wanted to crawl into a hole to hide, and he also wanted to rip that smirk off her face. The conflict held him still. 

The lady Commander laughed, shaking her hair back from where it fell over one side of her face. “I look forward to testing your prowess in combat. Your piloting was only a fraction more than two ticks off of the time record for that sim, and _almost_ flawless on top of that. Nearly as good as me.” 

Keith bared his teeth at her, but he saw a hovering hologram with two rows of Galran script. If she was telling the truth, the second row would be his name. No, third. Dammit. But she was scowling too, because the new row had appeared on top of them both. Then Thace exited a booth two down and turned to nod at Keith. _Oh_. 

The lady commander eyed Keith for a long moment while more rows popped up beneath his row. “ _He’s_ the one you want, mm? I can scent him on you. Was he the one who explained to you how the Rites work? Clever man.” She paused, voice going softer and thoughtful. “I could use a competent first lieutenant like that since Ladnok got my last one killed…” 

More rows popped up below, and with a flash of concern, Keith realized that the one right below him was an exact tie. Almost all the rows were filled now, so just Thace and two others; he could do this. 

Two names popped up on top of everybody at once, and Keith bit back a frustrated sound. Thace and four others. That was harder, but he could still do this. 

The creepy asshole stepped forward again. “These worthy Galra have passed the Red Paladin’s challenge.” 

The names meant little to Keith, and he counted the number instead. But instead of stopping at five, the creepy asshole kept reading on. Four more names. _Four_. And one of them was Throk, who smirked at Keith. 

No way. Anger burned through him, and at least it was burning through the arousal too. “Those last four didn’t even match me! They didn’t pass the challenge.” 

Creepy asshole turned to look at him. “Overruled, _courted_ ,” it said with a sneer, “those four also more than passed the requirements for excellence on the pilot sims. They will remain.” 

The lady Commander, her name was Trugg, Keith remembered, scowled. “Weaklings. Relying on bending the rules to win. But the most challenge will be Throk. His blade form is perfect, but he relies too much on pattern and has no creativity.” 

Keith blinked up at her, so confused. She grinned, showing off her very sharp teeth. “If you are forced to yield to one of them, we who conquered your challenge on our actual merit won’t be able to show everyone our prowess.” 

The nine names were cleared of the extra scores and blinked up and down before settling on a random order. Thace was last, Keith was pretty sure. Keith walked into the center of the combat area, aware of translucent forcefields shimmering up around him. Trapped with limited space to fight in. 

The first name turned out to be a giant, maybe even bigger than Zarkon. He was holding a sword loosely, but obviously the preferred weapons were the scythes hooked to his back. Keith hoped desperately that he wouldn’t try to use them. He looked at Keith and laughed, loud and disbelieving. “I thought you would be larger, Red Paladin. I would break you in two before I even got more than the tip of my cock in you! I don’t want to waste my time on such a disgustingly small consort. I withdraw my suit.” 

Keith felt insulted because he was a perfectly normal height, but at the same time, he was relieved. That would have ended badly, and he could just imagine how true ‘broke in two’ would have turned out. 

The next one was a more reasonably sized Commander that had a prosthetic with nasty looking claws, and he was good, but too slow. Keith activated his Bayard and went after the target relentlessly. The Galra was disarmed at last, and scowled murderously at Keith while muttering “I yield.” 

The next one had large ears and a scar diagonally across his face, and was dispatched even quicker. The one after that was barely taller than Keith, almost looked chubby, and fought like he’d never held an actual sword before. He seemed to realize he was outmatched immediately, and yielded with something suspiciously like relief when Keith disarmed him. They were also both Commanders, and Keith guessed that meant he’d cleared three of the four extra names and one that had actually passed the challenge. Good. 

The fifth name called was Throk’s, who swaggered into the ring with an impressive sword, and announced loudly. “Once I defeat you, I’m going to claim you right here so everyone can hear how desperately you trill for me.” 

Keith tried not to vibrate apart from anger. Asshole! Fuck him, fuck— 

The anger almost got him immediately disarmed, and Keith was put on defensive, off balance and shit, shit, shit—

But the lady Commander had been _right_. Throk was good, technically far better than Keith was, but each movement was perfect… and exactly the same. He left no openings, and his attacks were brutally efficient, but Keith was sure if he could just knock him off balance somehow, it’d break his perfect form. 

He ducked a swing, distantly aware of how close that one had been and tried to think— His knife!

Throk’s confident expression faltered when Keith’s knife not only deflected the sword, but put a _nick_ in it, and Keith wasn’t going to waste the chance. He thrust his Bayard, aiming for Throk’s throat, but remembered at the last second about no killing moves or his choice was forfeit. The tip left a shallow cut on Throk’s neck instead. _Yes!_

“Killing blow! I demand you yield!” 

“I refuse!” Throk was _pissed_ , Keith could smell oily anger coming off him in waves, and barely dodged a blow that probably would have broken his arm.

But then Throk _smiled_. “And your choice is forfeit. That is not a sword!” 

Oh _no_. “A blade is a blade! I can fight two handed if I want!” 

But fear curdled in his stomach. Had he just blown it? Keith had to back up, Throk’s attacks now lacking that perfect form, but Keith was intently aware of just how much _stronger_ the Galra was than him. 

“My Emperor,” Throk howled, “they broke the rules; their choice is forfeit! Give them to me!” 

More quietly, over forcing Keith into a block that sent muscle seizing pain up through his arms and shoulders, Throk gloated. “You’re _mine_. I’m going to fuck your canal raw and bruised and _bloody_ with my hand for daring to humiliate me like this!” 

“I will allow the second blade. Wielding two is an acceptable sword-form.” 

Keith wanted to stop and stare in shock because had Zarkon just ruled in _his_ favor? But not exactly. Throk should have been forced to yield, and he hadn’t. If Keith was disarmed or worse, he knew with a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be allowed to refuse either. So it wasn’t really in his favor; it just made the fight longer. 

And infinitely more dangerous. Throk shrieked in fury, coming at him without any kind of form, but hitting so hard that even parries sent waves up pain through his arms, and each block that was forced almost took him off his feet. Keith had to keep hopping back to stay at the limits of Throk’s reach and even have a _hope_ of not being literally broken. And now he could almost feel the translucent barrier at his back. He— He was cornered. What could he—

Keith yelped and bent over backward to avoid a swing that probably would have broken all his ribs and maybe his back. The sword swept inches over his chest, and there was no way he was righting his balance. He couldn’t turn it into a flip or a roll either, because of the barrier. Keith went down hard, smacking his elbow on the deck and losing grip on his Bayard from the pain of it. He kept his grip on his knife but barely and the Bayard had slid completely out of his reach. 

But Throk’s wild swing put his sword in contact with the barrier, and Keith watched in amazement as the asshole was electrocuted and dropped like a stone. Thank _god_.

He sucked in a breath, feeling wrung out and exhausted. He just needed a minute—

“You’re mine!” 

Fuck! Keith managed to get to one knee, blocking the blow with his knife gripped in both hands, and then duck into a roll away. But it put the new Galra Commander, average height at best, but so lithe and fast, in between him and his Bayard. 

And the Galra was not about to let him get it. Things condensed down to a blur as his knife was forced to hold back a massive two handed sword. Breathe, dodge, parry, block, move—

He was not sure how it happened but suddenly she was disarmed and yielding (he was pretty sure she was a she, mutton chops aside). 

Again, no break. The next one was massive man in Commander’s armor who actually bowed at Keith before starting. If Keith had to guess, he was a lot older than any of the others Keith had seen and fought so far and fought more slowly and deliberately because of it. Keith was able to dart around and get his Bayard back, and just in time. He needed both to hold up to the swings, the sword being used more as a bludgeon, and he was winded and sweat was running down his face and neck and everywhere. But Keith knew what to do; he just needed to find the energy to do it. 

Each of his opponent’s swings left an opening for a fraction of a second. Not long enough for most of the Galra he’d fought today to make use of but an opening that _he_ could take advantage of, if he could just— But he was staggering, barely on his feet and Keith felt a stab of doubt. 

No. No. Patience yields focus. All he needed to do was stay out of the way long enough to take advantage.

There! Keith dove forward between the Galra’s legs, and slashed his weapons at the man’s thighs, right above the back of the knees. Neither got through the armor entirely, but both blows drew blood (and his knife cut _deeper_ ) and the Galra staggered to his knees. Gasping for breath, Keith managed to find his feet and hold his Bayard to the man’s neck. “Yield.” 

The Galra nodded with a grimace. “I yield.” 

Two sentries came in to help the Galra limp out. As he passed Keith, he actually smiled. “Ah, it’s so much more than just your scent that is mouthwatering. What power; what skill. I’m honored to have participated in the Rites with you, Red Paladin. I envy your chosen consort.” 

Wait. 

Wait, what? Seriously, _what?_

Keith was still staring after him, utterly befuddled at the statements, and he caught sight of the lady Commander and Thace standing at the opening of the barrier. Just one more fight. Just one more and he could… 

He couldn’t rest, because then he’d be having sex. Sex with Thace (he hoped and wasn’t that a hilarious turnabout). The spring inside him coiled tighter, shaking a gasp free from his throat. But he was trembling and sore, and sticky with sweat and his throat was so parched. 

Lady Commander stepped into the empty spot in the barrier, and then spoke. Her voice carried easily. “I agree with Lieutenant Thace! I move for a break period. I want the Red Paladin _fresh_ when I fight them. I want to truly prove my prowess, _and_ theirs!” 

To Keith’s stunned relief it was granted, and in short order he was settled on a low chair, sagging bonelessly against it because oh _god_ was he exhausted. 

“Here.” 

Keith opened one eye to find Thace holding some kind of drink pouch in his hands, and snatched it up without even _thinking_ about it. The coil got tighter, and an electric tingle dove straight for his groin when his skin brushed Thace’s fingertips. He was sucking it down a second later, and couldn’t hold back a little whimper of pleased surprise. It tasted faintly salty, with a sour aftertaste that was somehow so _good_ , and quenched a desperate thirst he hadn’t known he had. Keith had been expecting something vaguely sweet, or maybe a little tangy, like the drink pouches the Castle had, but this was so much better, and galaxies better than any sports drink he’d ever had on Earth. 

When he’d sucked it dry, he opened his eyes again with intent to thank Thace for the drink, but he was holding out another one. Keith snagged it, still terribly thirsty, but this time held himself back to slower sips. “Thank you. …both.” 

Lady Commander— Trugg, had her armored hands on her hips and she laughed. “Don’t thank me! This will increase my reputation and power within the Empire, and that’s why I’m here. It won’t work nearly as well if you’re about to drop from dehydration.” 

Keith was almost grateful for the reminder that his well-being wasn’t even a blip on any of their radars. Or most of them. Was Thace doing all this because _he_ wanted glory and prestige too? 

No, Keith concluded, it couldn’t be all that. He wasn’t naive enough to think that Thace actually cared for _him_ , but all signs pointed to Thace being the apparently one in a million Galra with morals and ethics. He could deal with it not being personal. He could. 

Keith was still mulling it over when it was decided that the break had gone on long enough, and he was forced back out on the arena floor. Trugg pointed her sword at him. “You better give me the fight of your life, Red Paladin!” 

It was obvious a sword wasn’t her primary weapon, but she was still _good_ with it. She was grinning, and Keith found himself grinning back, even as she forced him to his very limit. Then he finally landed a blow, Bayard cutting into the armor at her hip. Not a deep wound, or any kind of crippling one, but he felt a burst of accomplishment. 

That split second distraction was his undoing. He missed that her next swing was a feint until too late, and got sent tumbling head over heels. He was already getting up when her next strike landed, and Keith was lucky his ribs didn’t break. With her boot pinning him, she leveled her sword at his throat. “Yield.” 

Fuck, no. Fear hit him hard, followed up by a burst of desperate anger. No! “I refuse!” 

He managed to get his knife jabbed into a seam of her leg armor, definitely wounding her, and arched and twisted, effectively bending himself in half at the waist for a moment while he got his feet up through her legs to slam his heels into her hips from the front. The distraction of the knife wound was enough to make the reckless move work, but also ended up with a biting sting of pain cutting through the soft skin underneath his chin. No vital damage, but bleeding freely. 

Trugg lost her balance, tucked into a backwards roll, and came up in a crouch, one hand to her wounded leg. Keith got to his feet, holding the back of his hand to the cut to stop it bleeding. 

“I could force your yield. I have that right as a full-Galra to a consort that doesn’t even _look_ part Galra.” She said it almost casually, like it wasn’t a completely _awful_ thing to do to somebody. 

The fear tried to choke him, but Keith tightened his hands on his weapons. “But you aren’t really here for a consort.” 

To his surprise, she started laughing. “Bold! And you’re right.” She stood up. “I am satisfied! I’m more interested in females anyway, so I withdraw my suit, having proven my prowess against a Paladin!” 

Keith was left shaking and bloody in the middle of the deck as she walked away, but he could still hear her as she clapped a hand on Thace’s shoulder. “You owe me, Lieutenant! There’s a place on my flagship for you; I expect you to report for duty next work-shift.” 

Thace’s voice was barely heard though. “You will have to take that up with my commander; he’s shown no intention of letting me go.” 

“Prorok, isn’t it? I’ll force his hand. But now, you go and claim your firebrand of a consort. Have fun making them trill for you!” 

Thace was walking towards him now, sword out, and Keith realized that he was very turned on right now, not even counting the coiled sensation low in his abdomen that felt like it was waiting for something. Thace bowed to him, and Keith found himself bowing back. 

There was no further warning, and Keith knew immediately that Thace was several levels of magnitude above him in skill. His every movement was efficient and graceful. No openings, no wasted momentum, nothing that wasn’t pure, condensed deadliness with a blade. Holy shit, Keith felt like someone blind and arthritic in comparison. How was Thace even doing that? Keith wanted to learn those techniques, desperately.

Keith was instantly scrambling to not lose, pushed well past what he thought he could do already. It was achingly perfect, and weirdly, he _was_ learning, in a very school of hard knocks way. 

But it didn’t stop him from getting his knife knocked from his hands, and then Thace crossed swords with him, catching the hilt with the handle of Keith’s Bayard. He had a moment of ‘oh shit’ before Thace murmured into the blades between them, “remember the tradition.” 

Then his Bayard was sent flying, and Keith was knocked back. He managed not to end up flat on his back, but only barely. The coil tightened, Thace’s voice demanding him to yield rang in his ears—

“I refuse!” 

Thace’s sword slammed into the deck plates, burying the tip about an inch deep, as soon as Keith spoke, but he’d seen enough to realize it was coming and was no longer there. His knife was closer, and he ripped off the torn wrappings completely. They were loose and he needed every advantage he could get. 

Keith brought his knife up to block a swing, and saw the moment that Thace became aware of the the glowing symbol on the hilt. It was the tiniest of reactions, barely a widening of the eyes, but it was enough for Keith to get a thrust in. No damage to Thace himself, but the knife scored a deep sparking groove in Thace’s armor. 

In the next second Keith was knocked back, but he kept hold of the knife, and a roll brought him back to his Bayard. Keith went on the offensive this time, and Thace’s defense was graceful, elegant. Holy shit why was Keith turned on so damn much? 

It ended with Keith on the ground, Thace’s knee pressing down on the small of his back. “Yield.” 

A part of Keith wanted it, wanted to yield and be held and touched and— _no_ , he couldn’t give up now. “I refuse!” 

He wriggled and twisted and nearly dislocated his shoulder to get a hand up to drive the hilt of his knife against Thace’s temple. Not enough to really hurt probably, but it made Thace disengage. 

Keith didn’t attack this time, waiting, watching. He was gonna land a blow before he gave it up, but he couldn’t let Thace get him before that. 

They circled, and it was completely silent. Keith feinted left, and Thace raised a defense, dancing closer. Keith tensed himself for a charge, raising his Bayard, and Thace braced—

The knife was _probably_ not the best thing in the world to throw, but it clipped the fur on Thace’s head before he caught it an inch or two beyond, sending a cascade of short, violet hairs down to his shoulder. And Thace actually smiled for a split second, Keith was sure of it this time. 

“I yield.” Keith’s voice came out hoarse like he’d been screaming, and his dick was protesting the tightness of the body suit beneath his armor (Keith was so slick he had a moment of wondering if it could be seen), and he nearly trembled from the intensity. He’d yielded, it was done (not done, there was still sex) and everything felt intense. 

Thace put up his sword and extended his hand, which had a fine red line across the palm from Keith’s knife. “I claim you for my consort.” 

Keith’s hand looked small in Thace’s, but he was surprised by the softness of the paler skin of Thace’s palm, and he could _smell_ them both. Spicy tangy musk and the other little scents mixing and heightening and _shit_. The coil down in his abdomen uncoiled abruptly, and Keith felt a flood of something. It was almost like getting hit with an adrenaline rush, except not quite. He felt flushed and light-headed and… safe. 

As unrealistic as the last one was, Keith was too tired to fight it, and felt more than saw his Bayard and knife getting tucked back where they belonged while he leaned his forehead against Thace’s chest-plate. The armor felt cool and pleasant against his skin. A voice was speaking (lots of voices, actually) and sounded like it was coming from far away. 

Thace answered, sounding almost irritated. “No, my _own_ quarters. And I don’t care; reprogram the tracker to allow it.” 

Keith shook his head to try to clear it, but had no success. He also thought he saw Allura in the crowd, but when he looked again, there was nothing even resembling her there. He must be so tired he was seeing things. 

“Thace? I’m exhausted; can we go somewhere quiet?” Keith almost bit his lip, regretting the question, but he heard titters of laughter around him, and a minute later, somebody said the tracker had been reprogrammed. 

Getting on the move actually helped Keith feel better, but he felt the crawling feeling of eyes on him the entire way to a nondescript door. 

Was Thace gonna push him against the wall to fuck him or— His heart hammered, but Thace just nudged him inside. “That door on the left has a shower. Go wash up; you’ll feel better afterward.” 

Oh, okay. He could do this. (Maybe he could do this.)


	4. The First Night, Part I: The Meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The awesome response from commenters encouraged me to post the first half of the next chapter (which was kind of long to begin with) early! Keith gets an introduction to Galra cuisine!
> 
> Fun facts:   
> \--In this AU, Galra are almost entirely obligate carnivores. They've developed the ability to digest some plant matter (and some fiber in their diet does help their digestion), but it's difficult for their systems to handle in great amounts, and certain types of carbohydrates can even make them very ill. Keith, being a hybrid with an omnivorous species, handles plant matter better, but not nearly as well as a full human would. 
> 
> \--Keith is very sheltered, cuisine-wise, because most of his childhood, his dad cooked only probably Galra-safe foods for him (and they were both geographically isolated and poor), so he rarely ate outside the home, and he didn't start branching out food-wise until he got to the Garrison.

The shower felt like heaven, and after Keith scrubbed himself down, he stood getting drenched under the spray for as long as he dared. It helped his sore muscles unclench a little, and if he was being honest, it was a way to avoid facing the man who was going to be taking his virginity. The thought made him feel flushed and tingly all over, but at the same time, sent bolts of fear and worry through his spine. 

He couldn’t put it off forever though, so Keith stepped out and rubbed himself dry, happy that towels seemed to be a truly universal thing, even if he had no idea what the short bristled brush thing attached to a hose was. When he looked in the mirror, Keith didn’t think he looked different, but he _felt_ different and it had nothing to do with the bruises and cuts littering his skin. Those were pretty normal anyway, and it seemed like only the cut beneath his chin was at any kind of risk of opening again. 

Then he realized that the only clothes he had were the ones he’d just taken off and ugh, no. _Why_. 

And they weren’t even there. Poking around revealed that they were in what Keith eventually identified as a cleaning unit, and there was something like a soft shirt on the counter by the mirror. It was huge on him, coming down to mid thigh and trying to fall off one shoulder, and there was no way he’d even keep the soft pants on (even if he wouldn’t be tripping over the almost a foot of extra length) that had been under it. They were soft and breathable, and plain, and in the half-second after he realized that he was wearing Thace’s sleep shirt, his face in the mirror went bright red all the way to the tips of his ears. 

Keith could smell Thace faintly on the cloth, and with a shivery internal twist, his body reminded him that it was on board with the idea of sex with Thace, if nothing else. And without pants on, there was no way Thace wouldn’t smell it, or honestly see the slick that was going to be smearing down his thighs if things kept going the way they were. Knowing he was going to be having sex, and walking out of the bathroom dressed to basically beg for sex were two different things, and Keith was suddenly very unsure about the clothes. The timer told him he’d be in here for hours if he waited for the armor’s bodysuit though. 

So he crept to the door, more than relieved to find his Bayard and knife carefully placed on the counter next to it; at least he still had that much. And he’d meant to just ask Thace if he had anything that might fit Keith better. Shorts maybe. 

But Thace was talking, and the door did little to muffle it. “—expected the Voltron Paladins to have mounted a rescue mission by now. I don’t know what to do. This was supposed to buy time and keep them relatively unmolested until a rescue came, but now Trugg has become interested in me, Throk is certainly out for vengeance, and if the truth is revealed…” 

A female voice responded. “You and they will both be killed.” 

“No, the Emperor said we’d be handed over to the soldiers for stress release.” Thace said that with a hitch in his voice and the female voice swore something that didn’t translate. Thace continued when the stream of expletives stopped. “This idea was supposed to protect them, not end up threatening them with even more extreme abuse.” 

There was a sigh. “If I could, I would be there, but I can’t. I wouldn’t wish your position right now on anyone, but… I agree. Make sure they know the consequences, and if they want to risk them, back them up. But if they _don’t_ , make tonight as good and caring as you can. We both know what it’s like to have to have sex for reasons other than wanting to.” A laugh that sounded a little sharp and almost pained. “I can’t believe I’m telling you to—“ 

Keith put his hands over his face and sagged against the wall next to the door. Thace really _cared_ , at least about keeping him safe from rape and even sex he wasn’t sure he really wanted, and had risked getting put through the same terrible things to help him. And apparently had intended treason to hand him over to the rest when they came to rescue him? If he was reading between the lines right, anyway. What the hell was Keith supposed to do with this? 

Silence, and Keith realized that he must have bumped the door panel. He peaked around the edge of the frame and spotted Thace at a small desk-slash-control panel and a glimpse of a purple face with darker purple markings before the hologram abruptly cut off. Well, at least that confirmed that he hadn’t been _meant_ to hear that. Probably. He edged out, still feeling super exposed, and hugged himself, glad for the weight of his Bayard and knife in his hands. “Your pants really don’t fit.” 

The way Thace just froze, lost for an answer, was kind of funny. Finally he shook his head. “I didn’t really expect them to, but I had nothing better. I wasn’t able to find where in the med bay your Paladin armor had been stored and everything was locked down, besides. I couldn’t risk trying to crack the codes during such a busy shift.” 

That confirmed that Thace had somehow gotten his knife and Bayard, although Keith hadn’t really doubted that. And how much risk had _that_ put Thace in? What the hell was he supposed to do about all this? Keith took a step forward, very aware of his bare feet on the cold metal. “What now?” 

Thace cleared his throat. “First I want to wash up, and then we need to talk. And food; we should eat.” 

He got up and Keith didn’t miss him slipping something tiny out of the console before apparently switching it off. “I won’t be long; try to get comfortable.” 

Keith wasted no time before he started snooping. The console was a bust, as he thought it might be when Thace had turned it off, but there was a shelf with tablets that were what passed for books around here. He poked through them, but couldn’t read Galran so got nothing. There was a low bed set into the wall with a tiny shelf near the head, a table and a chair, and what prodding at made Keith realize was a storage and prep area for food. Kind of like the mini-kitchenette that suites in hotels had. He was starving, but Thace had promised food, so he left it alone for now. The other side of the room had wall hooks for a sword and gun and probably other kinds of weapons, and a mini closet for clothes. Nothing that would fit Keith any better than the shirt, still, and not much variety either. 

Then he saw the box almost well hidden under an extra chest plate. It wasn’t very big but it wasn’t tiny, either. In fact Keith suspected it was just the right size for his knife and his armor to easily fit inside. There was a place for a handprint scan, which predictably refused Keith, and what he thought was a pad to enter a code into. The ominous beeping it gave when he put his hand on it made Keith draw back without attempting anything further. For an agonizing moment it kept beeping but then went quiet. That was some serious security for a little box. 

The door to the bathroom swished open just as Keith was poking into the last storage space in the room, which was a little set of drawers reset into the wall near the bed. He slammed the door to it shut, jumping probably a literal foot in the air and tried to pretend like he wasn’t blushing all the way to his chest. Keith hadn’t gotten a good look but from just a glance… what was in that drawer was probably sex toys and hahaha _why_. Thace was in similar clothes and drying off the insides of his ears, sounding perfectly casual. “Find anything interesting?” 

“I— I wasn’t snooping!” Keith wanted to go die in a hole when that came out. Wow, way to screw up and reveal exactly what he’d been doing. Thace just raised an eyebrow slowly and deliberately, saying nothing. Keith tugged on the hem of the shirt, wishing so hard that he had something else on. “Okay, fine, I was, but you can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same in my position.” 

Thace walked across the room to grab the chair from the table and sat down in it right next to the console. He gestured at Keith to take the console’s chair, which looked significantly more comfortable. “I would have, yes. But we need to discuss what you want and the consequences of the choices available for us. I will _not_ force you, but I— Our choices are limited.” 

“I wasn’t unconscious when… I heard what Zarkon said. I’m guessing that wasn’t an idle threat.” Keith didn’t really believe it had been, even when he’d heard it, but now that it was looming close over his head, it was a lot scarier. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Thace said heavily, “it was probably meant to discourage those who’d make a suit but weren’t interested in obtaining a full consort. I’m not surprised Commander Trugg withdrew hers once she’d proven her prowess; her preference for females is well-known. But regardless, if there’s doubt of my intent, or… ability, we will be restrained, possibly drugged, and offered to anyone who wishes stress release, with no chance of reprieve.” 

Well, that was certainly enough to kill the buzzing of arousal in Keith. Thace started at something he saw on Keith’s face, and Keith could guess he’d just gone very pale. He waved his hands, trying to communicate he was fine until his voice decided to stop hiding. After a cough or three, Keith felt like he could talk. Really, the right answer here was just to have sex, but Keith wanted to make sure he wasn’t overlooking things, especially after that bit about the bonding. “I don’t want to risk that at all but is there any way we could… fool people into thinking we’d done it?” 

“No,” Thace leaned back, frowning. “Not with the resources we have. Given time and a sympathetic doctor, there are ways to adjust ones’ scent and pheromones to say specific things, but as things stand, our scents will be a clear indicator that we haven’t consummated to anyone who gets close.” 

Yeah, without Pidge to reprogram the doctor-bot, they definitely didn’t have a sympathetic doctor. So sex it was gonna be. “How long do we have?” 

“At least until the end of my scheduled sleep shift. Probably longer, as Commander Trugg will have to bully Commander Prorok into allowing my transfer to her crew, but waiting past the end of my sleep shift will be very risky.” Thace paused for a moment. “There is… We could buy more time by saying that you were too exhausted and slept too deeply, but it will make me look weak to the rest of the fleet for not forcing you awake.” 

Keith kind of wanted to say, yeah, do it. He was so tired that he thought he could sleep for a week, but he also didn’t think Thace was lying to him about the risk. “And if you look weak, there’ll be guys like that asshole Throk who’ll try to force the…” he couldn’t say it.

Thace nodded. “Commander Throk will probably challenge me to a duel tomorrow in an attempt to recoup his loss of status because of the humiliation he’s suffered at my and your hands. He would not hesitate to take advantage of any perceived weakness.” 

“You’re way more skilled than him. You’d wipe the floor with him without breaking a sweat.” Keith was sure of that, and Thace huffed out a short laugh. And now it was do or die time. “So… sex. I— um.” 

Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to admit that the closest he’d gotten to sex was that bastard that hadn’t stopped when Keith had said it _hurt, stop_ and then ended up with two black eyes, a busted nose, and expelled from the Garrison for it. (And later, in jail, because Keith hadn’t been the only one to say stop.) The whole pain thing was yet another (related) problem, but… “How does it work, exactly? It’s not some kind of weird ritual sex or anything, right?” 

Thace was looking at him, and Keith thought he looked concerned. “No, nothing special. Just sex. Because of the situation it will be expected that I penetrate, but…” 

He trailed off, and Keith swallowed. “So I guess a hand job or oral wouldn’t cut it.” 

Thace’s expression went absolutely horrified, and Keith couldn’t help laughing when he realized why. It was a little bit hysterical, and went on too long, because every time it tapered off, he just got a flash of Thace’s expression again and that was just too funny. “Uh, right, with the claws and sharp teeth, I guess… Galra don’t do those kinds of things at all.” 

“It’s not…” Thace coughed and looked away, “unheard of, but it’s considered… very kinky. Using the mouth for anything sexual, I mean. Penetration with fingers is similar because it’s almost impossible not to cause damage with claws, but cradling your partner’s cock in your palms is a very common kind of foreplay.” 

The thought of Thace holding his dick in those very big (soft, a part of his brain reminded him) hands was— Yes, that was a good thought. Keith fought not to squirm in the chair, intensely aware again that he was in only a shirt and there was nothing between his groin and _touch_. “Okay. Okay. You said penetration, would they know if you didn’t? Like, if we did it the other way around or— I don’t know, I can’t believe that Galra don’t have _any_ way to do non-penetrative sex.” 

Thace’s nostrils flared again, and yeah, Keith could smell his own tangy, musky ‘sex please’ scent, and a rising, similar, scent from Thace. But Thace’s overall expression was thoughtful, and he waited a minute before answering. “Most likely it could be scented. In a full Galra, there is a release of hormones that happens on being penetrated fully. That release changes that Galra’s scent and pheromone signature, and that scent change will be what everyone is looking for. If that change isn’t there, even if we smell otherwise like sex, it will cast doubt on my…ability.”

Thace paused with a small grimace. “The change usually lasts long enough that explaining that your change hadn’t lasted would be suspicious. Unfortunately, the one person I know who’s had any experience with Earthlings and their hormones and pheromones is beyond my ability to contact right now. So because of your Earthling genes, it is possible that your scent wouldn’t change and we would be challenged about it. An answer to the challenge would be to suggest a scan in the medical bay to prove it—“ 

“But if we hadn’t, and someone calls our bluff that scan would expose the lie.” Well, shit. So sex, _and_ Keith had to find away to deal with the inevitable pain of it. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he should _tell_ Thace about the pain thing, or at least about the never really having sex thing. Keith choked on the admission so instead he stood up and took a step towards Thace, meaning to kiss him but not really wanting to because kissing was so ugh. “Alright, let’s do this then.” 

But Thace stood up and put a hand firmly on Keith’s shoulder. “Food first. You must be starving, and I can’t just smell your tension, I can _see_ it, Red Paladin. A meal should help you relax.” 

He was right, and Keith knew it, and Keith’s stomach knew it, deciding then to loudly announce that yes, food was top priority. “Yeah, I’m hungry. And still really thirsty.” 

Thace nodded and crossed to the kitchenette, while Keith tried to figure out why his brain was shouting at him that he’d missed something import—oh. “If we’re gonna… I mean. Keith. My name’s Keith.” 

“Keith,” Thace turned around, and his expression hadn’t really changed much but there was something soft about it. “Thank you for entrusting me with your name. Unfortunately, my rank doesn’t allow me to acquire much actual food, but I was saving—“ 

The translator obviously didn’t like the word Thace used, and Keith wasn’t even sure he could _pronounce_ it. He immediately felt almost guilty to hear that Thace was going to feed him something that he’d been saving for himself as a special treat. “You don’t have to; I can handle Galra food goo just fine. It’s actually better than Altean food goo. That stuff is awful.”

Thace snorted. “Of course it would be, for you. But don’t worry about it. I want to make sure you have actual food. But in the meantime—“ 

He tossed Keith one of the drink pouches, and Keith dug right into it, slurping through the straw happily while he pulled both chairs towards the little table. He sat and watched as Thace stick two containers of something into what Keith assumed was a space microwave, and then busied himself mixing something from a tiny pouch with water, which he then poured into two cups. The space microwave chimed and Thace brought the containers and the cups over, somehow balancing them perfectly. 

He gave Keith a look that was almost sheepish. “It’s much better, made from scratch with fresh ingredients, but this is all we can get, out in the fleet, without considerable expense.” 

“Thanks. Really, I mean it. Not just for the food, but for everything.” Keith felt awkward saying that, to someone who was still an enemy. Mostly. So he pulled open the container. It was cool but the food appeared to be steaming hot. He wasn’t surprised to find a piece of meat taking up most of the inside. There was some kind of sauce on it and it was sprinkled in bits of stuff that Keith suspected were spices. He was surprised to see actual _bones_. Just bones, with scraps of meat and fat on the outside, and cut into small sections, shorter than they were wide, like… Keith didn’t even know, bone cookies? Then there was something that looked like a cup of pudding, but it didn’t smell sweet. The last thing looked like a cactus lobe, de-spined, and had been cut in half and put back together. The meat, at least, was something Keith figured he could deal with without making some kind of dinner faux pas. Except, where was the silverware? 

Thace picked up something roughly popsicle-stick shaped, and pressed a glowy spot on it and poof! Suddenly half of it morphed into a spoon… fork… thing. Huh, Galra _did_ have sporks; he’d have to tell Hunk. But he went straight for the bits of bone, and ran the serrated edge of the spork around the inner part of the bone, which separated and, oh!

“Is something wrong, Keith?” 

“No.” Had he been staring? He’d totally been staring. “I was just surprised. Marrow bones are a really rare dish back home. Also I was trying to figure out dinner etiquette subtly without looking like a social dunce.” 

Thace chuckled, and popped the marrow into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut and he sighed, obvious in the enjoyment of it. “Don’t worry; you can ask questions, if you want. I understand that you’d be unused to dining with Galra.” 

“No kidding.” Keith picked up his space spork and pressed the glowy spot. And got a two pronged meat fork. Thace looked at him, quietly amused, and very slowly ran his thumb over the handle, demonstrating how the glowy spot followed the movement, and the utensil changed forms as it did. Oh. Neat. He got it to a knife-fork combination, and went for the meat first. It was still more familiar, and Keith wasn’t sure about the bone marrow, cooked or not. The meat was fall-apart tender, and didn’t take much cutting at all, so in short order Keith popped a bite into his mouth. It tasted vaguely like fish, but the main flavor was something he’d never encountered before. A lick of the sauce confirmed that it was the meat, and the sauce added a faintly sour-spicy kick to the meat. “Wow, okay, this is _really_ good.” 

Thace’s expression didn’t change, but his scent did, and Keith got the impression that he was pleased. It made his scent even nicer. Eating was taking up most of Keith’s attention though, because he _was_ starving. The meat was gone too soon, and as he’d suspected, the not-pudding was no kind of pudding. Keith guessed it was some kind of pate, maybe mixed with roe, because there were little round lumps in it. It was surprisingly tasty, whatever it was, and really complimented the taste of the almost-fish. Since Thace was dipping his almost-fish into the not-pudding, perhaps they were supposed to be eaten together, oops. 

Anyway, that left the thing that looked like a cactus, and the bone marrow. Thace had already demonstrated the bone marrow, so Keith picked up a piece, fussed with his utensil to get to the spork and dug a bit out. He was a little dubious, to be honest. Bone marrow was mostly fat, and while Keith had always been wild about meat, he’d also always trimmed away the fat like people were supposed to. On the other hand, it’d be rude not to try it, wouldn’t it? And Thace had really enjoyed it. 

He put it in his mouth and it practically melted on his tongue. It was _rich_ , and besides the pleasant meaty flavor of it, there were undercurrents of something almost nutty-sweet, and a creamy saltiness that was kind of like butter, but definitely _not_ butter. Keith thought he might have moaned, and he’d never believed that food could cause orgasms, but this was damn close. Holy shit, why had he never tried bone marrow before, if it was _this_ good? 

But there were only four pieces of bone in the container, and after Keith had plowed through them with his spork, he ended up sucking the rings of bone into his mouth to try to get more marrow out with his tongue. He opened his eyes after savoring the last bite to find Thace looking at him, chin in hand. And smiling, soft and warm. 

The flush of embarrassment competed with a flush of an entirely different kind. Thace was _hot_ when he smiled. Keith ducked his head anyway. “I kinda got carried away there. Sorry.” 

“My only regret is not thinking to give you my portion. Marrow is very rich in important nutrients for you right now.” Thace was still smiling, but leaned back to pick up his utensil again and pry the halves of the cactus-thing apart. He scraped it, getting some pulpy gel from the insides of the cactus skin and mixing it with, uh, something that clearly wasn’t a part of the plant that had been stuffed inside the split lobe. When he saw Keith staring, he explained. “It’s a dessert. Not my favorite, but the flavor and smell of the builk is soothing.” 

Keith mimicked what Thace was doing and got perhaps two spoonfuls of the mixed gel and whatever. It had a nice, cool smell to it, almost like mint, but instead of tasting sweet, like most mint things on Earth, it was astringent with a complex flavor that Keith didn’t have a word for underneath that. The cooling was more pronounced in his mouth, leaving a bit of a chill sensation all the way down when he swallowed. Nothing about it said ‘dessert’ to Keith, and he probably wouldn’t have eaten a whole bunch of it, but the flavor he didn’t have a word for was growing on him. 

Still, it needed washing down, so he grabbed the drink that Thace had mixed. It was a deep pink in color, and when Keith tried a sip, it had that complex flavor he couldn’t name, but without the astringent-ness that made it feel dry. Instead it felt juicy and refreshing in his mouth, and Keith ended up downing the cup in the next go. 

“Still thirsty?” When Keith nodded, Thace got up and collected the containers and utensils on his way. As he disposed of the trash and put the utensils and cups in to be washed, he talked. “I don’t have anymore of that, I’m afraid, but I have water and the electrolyte replenishment pouches.” 

“Water is fine. I think I’ve recovered from the Rites by now, and I doubt I’ll be fighting or anything before morning.” 

Thace just gave him a _look_ and tossed him a pouch. What? Oh. _Ohhhh_ shit. Sex counted as vigorous activity, didn’t it. Keith knew he was blushing, so he busied himself with the salty-sour liquid while Thace continued cleaning up. It was almost domestic. If he ignored the fact that he was a prisoner of the universe’s number one bastards, he could almost imagine that this would be what it would be like to have a real boyfriend. 

A hand on his shoulder startled Keith fully awake, and Keith found himself blinking up at Thace, who was almost close enough that he could lean up and just bury his face in Thace’s neck—

“Come on, you need rest.” Thace was speaking softly, gently, and pulled and lifted until Keith was on his feet. 

Keith was so tired and it sounded like a great idea. _But_. “I though waiting until after we slept—“ A yawn cracked his jaw. “was a bad idea.” 

“You need rest more, and I’m always awake well before my work shift starts. We’ll have time.” Thace was backing up, and somehow they were at the bed. 

And Keith was too tired to argue. He sat down on the bed, found it slightly more comfortable than the one in the med bay, and then flopped. Thace went to turn away causing an unpleasant twist somewhere in the vicinity of Keith’s chest, and he’d regret it in the morning, he was sure, but— “hey, wait. Aren’t consorts supposed to share?” 

Thace stopped. “Are you sure?” 

“I have no idea,” Keith mumbled, “but I will kick you out in a heartbeat if I change my mind.” 

Thace was warm, and so big behind him, and his scent— Keith moaned, as startled by the intense effect as by the fact that he felt safe. But his found again arousal was no match for the exhaustion, and his limbs and eyelids felt heavy…


	5. The First Night, Part II: Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The commenter response continues to be awesome, so here's the rest of the First Night chapter! 
> 
> Fun fact:  
> \--In this AU, Galra have a syrinx in addition to a larynx and vocal folds. While not really used for language, many instinctual sounds (distress or threat calls, or, for lack of a better word, mating calls) are produced from the syrinx. It's the first vocal apparatus that forms in developing Galra many months ahead of the vocal folds, so and as a result language development would appear to lag compared to human babies. In reality, very young Galra communicate primarily through scent, and eventually add syrinx sounds, and then later actual verbalizations to their repertoire.

Keith went to full alertness in an instant, not sure what had woken him, but feeling much better than he had before. He was curled on his side, head on Thace’s chest and their legs tangled together. There was a band of warmth curling around his back, felt even through the shirt, that Keith quickly realized was one of Thace’s arms. And the shirt had ridden up like Thace’s arm was the only thing stopping it from getting bunched up in his armpits. Oh god, had he been humping Thace in his sleep or something? 

Thace was still, and his breathing was deep and even, but if he was actually asleep, Keith would give his knife to Lance. What should he do? Try to go back asleep (and just lie there pretending, probably)? Get the sex part over with? Try to sneak out—?

But a familiar pressure told him that he needed the bathroom more than any of that, so he did his best to slip out of the bed without disturbing Thace and padded to the bathroom in the dark with more than a little haste. A rustle behind him told him he’d failed, but getting the pressing business done with was more important. 

A couple minutes later, feeling relieved, Keith wiped with space toilet paper (which was so much better than Earth toilet paper, go figure) and then stared hard at the container of space wet wipes sitting innocently next to the toilet. Maybe… Maybe he could convince Thace to fuck his asshole instead of the… other hole. Guys took it up the ass all the time without pain, right? 

Even if he couldn’t, wouldn’t hurt to be extra clean, so Keith grabbed the wipes and started working on cleaning up, outside and inside. As he wiggled a pair of fingers wrapped in a wipe around inside his ass Keith decided that while it wasn’t sexy, he wasn’t in threat of pain from too much stretch either. If he could convince Thace to do it, he had a solution. 

After he was done, Keith decided that he might as well clean up elsewhere too, so he took a fresh wipe to the dried slick between his thighs. He felt particularly sensitive, and even just the touch of the wipe made him almost tremble from how turned on he was getting. His dick slid free to dangle between his legs, already soaked and slippery, and twitching and almost writhing on its own like it did when he got really close to coming. And his hole _throbbed_ from the top all the way deep inside, every time he got a whiff of Thace’s scent, and god dammit, he really wanted to be touched there. But— It would _hurt_ —

He curled his fingers around the tip of his dick, and shoved his other hand back to get a fingertip into his hole and _fuck_. Keith whined (chirped) at the sensation, almost losing his balance because the urge to spread his legs was so strong. If his slick wasn’t viscous, it would have been dripping down his legs already, there was so much of it. As it was, it was smearing all over the insides of his thighs and— Now or never. 

Keith washed his hands on autopilot, not even entirely sure why, and half stumbled out of the bathroom. The lights were half on, casting the room in a violet twilight, and Thace as sitting on the bed, hands curled into fists on his knees. His voice was tight and rough when he spoke. “I could scent you from all the way out here.” 

Keith pushed himself past a surge of nerves. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I think.” 

He was between Thace’s knees, and actually a bit taller with Thace sitting down, and he just needed to get things started. He could do kissing (and maybe it wouldn’t hit the kill switch on his libido this time) and then Thace could take the re—

But Thace reeled back, and his scent shifted in a way that was probably being weirded out. Keith wasn’t sure what was going on except… “Galra don’t kiss either?” 

“Earthlings do that for _sex_?” Thace sounded as weirded out as he smelled, and suddenly Keith barked out a short, sharp laugh, relief bubbling up in him. 

“Yeah, it’s like the biggest turn on for people but my brain is wired wrong and she got so mad when I couldn’t find kissing sexy that she left me and—“ Why he was babbling _that_ terrible embarrassment, Keith didn’t know, but he whined (chirped) when Thace tugged him closer, in a loose, gentle hug.

“There is nothing _wrong_ with you, and we will do nothing that you’re not sure you want.” The hug didn’t tighten while Thace said that (Keith could escape it if he wanted and that was good) but one of Thace’s hands came up to gently drag claw-tips through the hair at the base of his neck. It didn’t feel sexy, but it felt _good_. Relaxing. “Was that why you’ve been so tense?” 

Keith nodded, and Thace’s neck was so close and he smelled so good. Keith found himself leaning in, rubbing his nose against the skin (no, it wasn’t skin, it was super short and fine fur) there. Thace made a noise from his chest— Thace _chirped_ , even if it was deeper and resonated more, it was still a chirp and what? 

But Thace pushed him back enough to look at him. “Keith, I need to know how much experience you have. It already sounds like Earthlings do things very differently than Galra and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or confuse you.” 

It was a good idea. It made _sense_. Keith didn’t want to talk about it. He really didn’t want to have to tell Thace about that bastard who Keith had known was bad news, but Keith let in anyway, because he just wanted to feel like he could _do_ sex, and wasn’t a sexless freak like his girlfriend had called him. (And then there were the rumors, because of course he hadn’t been aroused enough for his dick to be felt, and she’d called him a girl too, to every one of her friends.) So he pressed his nose to Thace’s neck again, hoping to distract him. It made his dick and hole both burn with such a good, sexy feeling, and this time Thace’s hands tightened, pulling him closer, and the musk coming from Thace had a different note to it which was only driving Keith even wilder. 

Thace pushed him back again, struggling this time. “ _Keith_. I need to know; I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Anger burned away the nerves about saying it, and Keith lashed out with his voice, snarling the words. “Well, you’re _going_ to! Unless you’ll fuck me up the ass or something, because it _hurts_. My only time I tried, I tore and bled, and the doctor told me after I’d never have sex without pain! They said they could cut me up so I could maybe take a dick like a normal girl, but it’d leave me with so much scar tissue and probably nerve damage that I’d never enjoy sex and it’d probably still hurt anyway. So if you have to fuck me… it’s going to hurt, but getting raped over and over will hurt so much more. So I want you to do it anyway.” 

“Oh, Keith…” Thace’s voice was full of… sympathy, maybe? Keith didn’t think it was pity (it didn’t smell like pity) but empathy would mean he’d gone through something like it and how could he, as a guy with probably a perfectly normal dick? Or maybe it was compassion? Whatever it was, it wasn’t disgust or thinking Keith was a freak. He’d encountered those too much to confuse them with anything else. 

Keith unwound himself from the flinch he’d worked himself into. “I… I want it. I want _you_. Being with you, thinking about you… I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Uh, maybe being turned on a lot will help? I sure as hell wasn’t with that bastard. And I was thinking in the bathroom that maybe… you could fuck my ass instead because I don’t think that would hurt.” 

Thace’s expression was still tinged with something like sorrow. “Cloacal penetration requires a protective barrier, which I don’t have. But if that’s what you want, I can go get one.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “Keith, can I look at you? I should be able to see our compatibility.” 

Cloacal? Well, Keith thought, holding back a snort, didn’t he technically have one, with the way his kidneys dumped the urine and whatever into his colon, instead of into a bladder that he didn’t even have? But why would Thace call it that, assume he had one— Did Galra have cloaca too? That thought was pushed aside by idea of Thace looking at his junk which was both sexy and caused a flare of nerves at the same time. But… Thace was trying to help, and maybe he could get that touch he craved up inside him somehow. In the drawer, it looked like Thace had had something that was almost like a dildo but was so thin and squishy looking… 

“Okay. I guess… I lie on the bed then?” Keith stepped back, hugging himself and then climbed on the bed. It took two deep breaths before he could spread his thighs, and he clenched his fists from the nerves. 

“Gorgeous—“ Thace ground out, and then placed a hand on his knee, trailing claws and fingertips in tiny circles, with just enough pressure that it wasn’t ticklish, but was still feather light. It felt nice, and actually helped push the nerves away. The fact that Thace thought his junk was gorgeous (didn’t smell like a lie either) helped too, so he didn’t have to fight the urge to close his thighs again while Thace leaned closer. 

Thace’s exhale washed over his dick, and oh _fuck_ , it sent a rush of arousal straight through him. His hips bucked once before he could hold still again. But Thace’s scent had turned dark and oily with anger. “If that male who abused you was here, I’d rip out his ovotestes right this instant with my own claws. Consensual sex should _never_ cause tearing, even with significant size difference. Careful preparation can stretch the canal enough to take even— But I can _see_ the scarring on you. No wonder you were so tense about the idea…” 

He sat back, and Keith sat up. He wanted to be close, smell and feel Thace, and couldn’t think of a reason not to. So he went, and Thace put arms around him with a startled noise. Not really feeling any better, but feeling more secure, Keith bit the bullet and asked, “What does it mean?” 

“Scarring of the canal can drastically decrease elasticity and the strength of the canal muscles. It can cause things like stalled labor, stillbirth, and painful and unsatisfying penetration.” Thace pressed a kiss to Keith’s hair, and it caused a rush of good, but definitely not-sexy feelings. Something demanded attention in the back of his brain, but Keith brushed it aside. 

“So the doctors were right.” Keith wanted to scream from the frustration of it. He wanted to be _touched_ , to feel good and to come and—

“And their only suggestion was to scar you up further? Earth is pre-interstellar travel… Is their medical technology likewise below universal standard?” Thace still sounded angry, but the oiliness had faded out of his scent.

“Uh, I don’t know how the Castle matches up to Galra tech, but Earth medical science is way behind the Castle. Their pods healed Lance up completely after he got caught in a really bad explosion.” Useless information now, probably. He wasn’t sure what Thace was getting at. 

“Why didn’t you ask the Alteans if they could heal the scarring?” 

Why was Thace even asking that, much less in such a calm voice. Keith shuddered and knew he was going red. “I’m here to fight a war, not to have sex. And it’s probably too old to heal.” 

“If you were in your fourth or fifth century, perhaps, but you’re not even past your first. The med bay has the equipment and materials for the treatments to remove scar tissue and initiate healing with normal healthy tissue that works exceptionally well on young Galra.” Thace stopped talking abruptly. 

Keith could guess why. “And how risky would getting it be?” 

“Only Commanders or higher can put in a request for authorization, and it’s not always authorized even then. The treatment can also take significant time, depending on how quickly the cells can be encouraged to replicate and replace the damaged tissue.” Thace got quieter as he talked. 

“And it’ll make you look weak like the ‘I needed to sleep’ excuse?” Keith asked, guessing it probably was. 

Thace grimaced. “Canal scarring is actually a serious enough medical condition to warrant putting off consummation until it can be treated, but the issue in our case is that you’re not full Galra and only full Galra have true rights within the Empire. The argument will be that you don’t warrant such lengths of medical attention. The fact that you’re Paladin of the Red Lion is a strong counter-argument to support getting you the treatment, but it’s risky to even ask.” 

Alarm bells went off in Keith’s head, but hell if he knew why. Only Commanders could authorize it, and it might even get approved because he was Paladin. They could work with this, but the thought of putting Thace in danger actually turned his stomach. Wasn’t that rich? He was starting to care, even if it was dumb and Thace was an _enemy_ and… Thace was the only one here who cared even a little, and he had already risked so much. Maybe it was okay to care a little. He wouldn’t let it get out of hand. “Okay, so there’s the treatment, and there’s having sex anyway. I can deal with a little pain. Do you think if you go really slow and gentle that we could—“

“Absolutely not.” Thace snarled, but it wasn’t directed at Keith. “I refuse to harm you more than you already have been. I just have to… Commander Prorok might be willing to take a risk to keep me as a Lieutenant.”

But Thace didn’t sound sure, and Keith could imagine the consequences if he guessed wrong. “Can he even win against her? I mean, she seemed very sure that she’d have you just for wanting it.” 

“No. She’s a much more ruthless and well respected Commander. She has more power than Prorok in all respects, and truthfully, refusing her command to switch to her crew would be both foolish and suspicious. It’s an honor to be considered.” 

Thace sounded almost glum, but it gave Keith an idea. “So! She really wants you in her crew, right? And the reason she realized you existed was because of the Rites, so I more or less led her to the opportunity that’s you. And now I’ve got this actual medical problem that’s preventing us from being happy consorts or whatever. It’s a stretch, but maybe it’s enough leverage?” 

“It _is_ a stretch,” Thace said flatly. “She’s ruthless, and I doubt she’d care about your health or mine.” 

“But she’d care about the Red Lion.” Keith barreled on past Thace’s protest, wondering briefly why he was even making it. “Look, I have no intention of ever betraying Voltron or the Princess or doing anything _but_ taking the Empire down. But I’m not stupid. To defeat Zarkon, I have to live long enough to escape, and I bet it’s easier to escape from one of her ships than from Zarkon’s flagship or wherever here is. And you guys are all arrogant enough to believe that this supposed consort bond or whatever is enough to make my loyalties shift so… why not play it up? Let her think that if she can help keep me happy and panting after you, that she might get to control the Red Lion through me someday.” 

He… probably shouldn’t have said that to a loyal soldier, even one willing to let him go free for moral reasons. Shit.

Thace’s expression was disapproving. “If you are’t careful, you’ll find yourself trapped in a lie that forces you to do more and more terrible things to maintain it.” 

Keith froze. Thace wasn’t wrong, but he was trying to focus on the here and now. “Do you have any better ideas?” 

“No.”

Why did Keith feel like getting Thace to agree to the idea was going to be the easy part? “So how do we go about this?” 

“We wait for her to contact me, and hope she’s forced Prorok to allow my transfer.” 

Waiting. Just great.


	6. The Treatment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued thanks for all the comments and questions and encouragements! 
> 
> This chapter is all plot, but the full-on porn will finally arrive next chapter.

By the time Thace’s comm console pinged, Keith was nearly stir-crazy. He always did better with action, and even though they’d gone over the details of what they would do twice, and Keith didn’t think it’d be _enough_ without dangling the Red Lion in front of her, it hadn’t taken up enough time.

Thace was in his armor, and flicked on the console. As they’d thought, Trugg’s face appeared in the holoscreen. Thace was quick to put his fist to his chest and bow as well as he could in the position. Trugg had her arms crossed over her chest and smiled full of teeth. “There’s my new first lieutenant! Enjoy claiming your consort and making them trill for you?” 

Thace looked away from the camera, which Keith knew was calculated, but didn’t look it. And now was his cue. He walked up, feeling so exposed because he was still just in the shirt, and put his arms around Thace’s shoulders. “We didn’t get that far. Thace stopped because I have _scars_ of all things.” 

Did he get the note of frustration right? Whatever. Thace pulled him down, and Keith went, arching his neck for the nuzzle he knew was coming, and chirping. That part wasn’t an act in the least; how something so simple felt so _good_ when he kinda wanted it, he didn’t know. 

Thace spoke into his neck, but clearly enough that Trugg would be able to hear it. “You were in _pain_ ; your scent was thick with it.” 

“Pain is normal!” Keith snapped back, feeling a little proud that he got the offended tone right. “If you’d just try again, I’m sure I could grit my teeth through it long enough for it to feel better.” 

Trugg was not impressed, but they hadn’t expected that. “I’d be more willing to grant you a leave shift to have fun ravishing your new consort if you’d just come out and asked.” 

“That,” Thace said, sounding reluctant, “isn’t what I wanted to ask for. Questioning revealed that my new consort was abused as a child—“

“I kicked his ass!” Keith said defensively. He didn’t quite think the lie would fly, but Thace had thought it might arouse some feeling of protectiveness in Trugg. Keith personally didn’t think she had a protective bone in her body. 

“But not without suffering injury.” Thace retorted, and then turned to Trugg. “You know the risks of canal scarring; I don’t even know how extensive it is. I’m aware that it’s far beyond my rank to ask, but I _would_ like to enjoy my consort’s passion.” 

Trugg let silence drop down over them, and Keith was prepared for it. Thace had said she’d pull power plays. Finally she snorted. “You’re being too bold, Lieutenant. That request is much more serious than a leave shift. I see no reason why I should interfere. It doesn’t improve my power or position.” 

Now came the hard part. Keith took a breath. “You wouldn’t have known Thace existed, and he would have languished in Commander Prorok’s crew, if not for the Rites. If not because of me.” 

Trugg raised her visible eyebrow. “I already consider that debt repaid through letting you have the consort you wanted, Red Paladin.” 

“So you went through all that trouble to get Thace, making an enemy of another Commander in the process, and you’re willing to let us both be removed from your resources that easily?” Keith challenged. 

“I didn’t wish to impose, as I’m aware of the honor you paid me just by promoting me to your crew, but my consort has a valid point. Commander Throk is furious and has vowed revenge, and this unfortunate circumstance gives him an opening to attack. I am fully prepared to deal with the small threat he poses, but it will be a distraction from my work. You could also use the conflict to your advantage, of course, if you were willing to take the extra steps.” Thace sounded so humble, but there was something conspiratorial in his tone by the end. If Keith hadn’t known Thace was playing a con, he wouldn’t have expected a thing.

“Are you offering me Throk’s fleet and territory, trussed up prettily?” There was a glimmer of a smile, through the poker faced expression. “I’m listening.” 

“Yes. It would only take a Commander’s backing, and the reason for our delay in consummation legitimized and in the process of being corrected, to turn the conflict from a minor disagreement between two individuals into an insult and threat to your status notable enough for official action. And with that leap in power, Prorok would hold off on direct challenge. I happen to know the avenues he uses when he attempts an indirect approach.” Thace was _good_ , throwing that out casually, but just serious enough. 

“My fleet can crush Throk’s, even in direct conflict.” Trugg looked almost thoughtful. “I do admit that not needing to repair massive battle damage would save resources. But even with the reward, why should I spare the effort when your pretty little consort is going to run off, first chance they get?”

“I—“ And here Keith had to do the best acting of his _life_ , and why was it so easy to dredge up how often he’d felt different. Off. On the outside looking in? He covered his face in his hand, hissed a breath that made his shoulders heave and focused on those feelings. “I’m not like them. They don’t trust me; especially the Alteans. Where are they? They should have at least _tried_ to get me out. For all their talk of the Paladins being irreplaceable, they’re sure taking their time. And now, I can’t le… I won’t— Thace risked everything to keep me away from Throk, and he won’t even hurt me when I say it’s fine. How come an enemy cares more about me than my own allies?” 

Silence, and Keith didn’t look up, but he knew Thace was smiling at Trugg, selling that he’d planned what sounded like some grade A manipulation (and maybe it was, but down that road lay madness) to get a Paladin to start falling in love with him or whatever. 

Finally Trugg laughed. “You two are either playing an excellent con, or Emperor Zarkon will have his very own Red Paladin sooner than anyone thinks. Either way, Throk’s fleet without even lifting my finger is enough for me to ask for the authorization. Just don’t double cross me, or the Emperor’s planned punishment will seem like a paradise, compared to what I’ll do to you.”

* * *

The treatment _sucked_ , but Trugg’s authorization was actually enough to get started right away. He had to spread his legs to let the doctor-bot look at him, and endure cold prodding and a scan. Then there were blood draws and then injections (into his abdomen! Into his _dick_ …area), and some kind of goop (that apparently had nanites in it that would excise the scar tissue on a microscopic level) was squirted so deep up inside him and packed into his groin before being secured with what reminded Keith of basically a chastity belt. He’d been instructed not to take it off at least until the next checkup after Thace’s work-shift. 

And then he’d been told to rest and absolutely not get aroused. Oh, and Thace had been ordered to kiss him. Keith just had to ask, and found out that kissing, for Galra, was a healing thing, and for that reason, tended to kill the libido. Something about antimicrobial properties, and containing compounds that encouraged immune response and healing. Most of it had honestly gone over Keith’s head, but the fact that kissing also told someone in detail about their partner’s mental and physical state didn’t. And on kissing Thace, he found out that Thace was _stressed_ , to levels that made Keith want to pull him down and protect him from what was bothering him and— And maybe the bond thing was something to worry about. 

But right now, Thace was off doing whatever Trugg was ordering him to do, and familiarizing himself with how she ran her fleet. So Keith was in Thace’s room, lying stretched out on the bed because the chastity belt tended to pinch when he was sitting. Thace had shown him how to make the books go to audio mode at least, but Keith was not very sure about the content. The current one was intoning everything in a husky voice and detailing the adventures of Vridka, a cadet just joining the fleet. He was all ruthless and strength and power blah blah blah, but Keith was starting to suspect that this was the Galra version of a trashy romance novel. Because Vridka had just been shoved around by a lady lieutenant and was standing up to her but also turned on for some reason? 

The door beeped. Keith reached to turn off the book. The door beeped again, sounding stressed. Keith tensed. He’d been waiting for this, but there was hell of a lot of risk. After a last beep and some sparks, the door slid half open, and sure enough, Throk was sliding through. Keith was pleased to see he was limping. Thace had probably kicked the shit out of him earlier.

“Look at you. So _pathetic_.” Throk spit, and came forward. “And that Lieutenant is so soft that he let some canal scarring stop him! But he hasn’t claimed you, not really.” 

Keith couldn’t help the shudder, but he couldn’t move to escape just yet. Throk needed to get farther in, and say more crap. “Get out. You lost!” 

“Victory or death, and I’m going to have victory.” Throk leered. “And you’re not even running. Could it be that you _want_ it rough, and your canal all abused? I’m so looking forward to you trilling for me while I fuck you bloody.” 

Nope. No. But he had to wait for it. “Commander Trugg approved this treatment, and of Thace and I being consorts. Are you going to challenge her directly?” 

“Yes! I could crush her if I wanted! She’s all show and no real strength.” Excellent, Throk was posturing. “And besides, by ridding her of her weak lieutenant, I’m doing her a favor. She owes me! And so do you. I’m going to take every humiliation I’ve suffered right out of your skin.” 

Throk was looming and Keith felt a twinge of remembered fear. But he lifted the small gun Thace had left for just this purpose, and fired it twice. He’d meant to hit Throk right in the dick, but he was pretty sure he missed. Whatever, it still got a nice scream, and in seconds, sentries alerted by Thace rushed into the room. 

With the recording device that had gotten all of Throk’s claims, and the fact that Throk had broken into the room, they had enough to see Throk in deep shit. And because he’d insulted Trugg directly in multiple ways, she could claim his fleet and maybe even his territory as recompense. Thace had said it’d probably take a while to get sorted, during which no one else would _dare_ interfere.

So while sentries dragged Throk off and repaired the door lock, Keith turned the book back on. He wasn’t invested in Vridka in the least, but at least it would keep the boredom away. (He was never telling anyone that he was maybe a little invested in a trashy Galra romance. But only a little!)

* * *

The chastity belt got replaced with a smaller one the next ‘morning’, and he was squirted full of a different color goop at the checkup, along with yet another round of injections to different points of his abdomen that made Thace’s brow furrow when he watched. But Keith also got told that he was progressing very fast, and would be fully healed and functional by the time the little timer on the new chastity belt went off. It was a lot easier to move around in, which was good, because Keith had something dangerous planned. 

With the Galra armor on, and probably hours of listening to get the rhythm of the sentry patrols down, Keith snuck out into the bowels of the ship. Luckily, Thace’s (technically former) ship where his room still was, was fully docked, and Keith was able to get onto what he knew now was Zarkon’s huge central command ship where Allura was still being held. 

Keith was almost surprised that he made it without the tracker knocking him out and sending up alarms, but the thought had occurred to him that places he was allowed would just be added onto the thing instead of inputting a completely new area and erasing the old each time, and he was right. The bigger gamble was hoping that the original cells would have been included, on account of him not being an actual consort at the time. 

The door didn’t open, and Keith honestly didn’t know what he would have done if it did, but he could stand up on tiptoes and peer in the horizontal slit that counted as a window. “Allura?”

“Keith? Keith!” Allura was suddenly peering through the door. “Keith, I sa—heard— What did you _do?_ ” 

The accusation in her voice stung. He knew he shouldn’t snap back. Too late. “Me? I’ve only been trying to avoid getting turned over to every soldier on this whole ship as a sex toy. Have they hurt you at all?” 

“Keith— was that what they threatened you with? Oh Keith, I’m so terribly sorry. They’ve only left me locked in here—” Allura sounded sincere, but shut up abruptly half way through answering the question. “But you can’t trust _any_ of them. All of them are vile, and only want to hurt or use you.” 

Not Thace, Keith found himself desperately wanting to say. But he knew better. Saying that would only make her worry. So he bit it back. “Yeah, look. I’ve been working on ideas. I haven’t given up; I just… we need a viable exit strategy. Once I figure that out, I’ll come back, I swear. Unless you’ve got ideas?”

“I— no. No, I don’t.” It looked like Allura was hugging herself. “I had hoped our friends would have come for us by now…” 

“Don’t give up, Allura. Voltron could probably come in bust this ship open and get us out without taking too severe damage, but I’m here, and _you’re_ here. They’re having to figure out how to get here without wormholes, _and_ stage a rescue with only four Lions. It’s just taking a little longer.” Keith wanted to believe that, he did, but the words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“Keith… Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.” She paused and bit her lip. “But I’m worried about you. After that awful man tried to force you like that, and now—“ 

“I can handle it. Don’t worry.” The words rang hollow, and Keith knew he wouldn't stand up to a closer inspection as being fine, not really. Physically he was probably better than fine. Mentally, also fine. Emotionally… it was getting harder to remember that for all his kindness, Thace _was_ an enemy. He might be opposed to keeping Keith here on ethical reasons, but otherwise he was probably in lockstep with the rest. When Keith got away, someday he’d probably end up facing Thace again across a battlefield, and why the fuck did it hurt so much to think about? “But I need to go. If they found out the tracker thing they put in me isn’t working right, I’ll lose an advantage. Sorry.” 

He started trotting away before Allura responded, ducking his head when she yelled his name. How the hell was he getting out of this?


	7. The Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was impatient so here's the porn chapter! Almost 2.5k words of Keith being fucked (in more ways than one). Subtitle could well be "Galra sex vs. Keith's denial game." 
> 
> Fun fact:  
> \--In this AU, Galra dicks are prehensile (although think more similar to an elephant trunk than an octopus tentacle), and long and thin, especially compared to human dicks. All Galra have one, although females (and another sex called carriers) have a shorter, thicker one that's merged with the birth canal, not entirely unlike the way a spotted hyena's psuedopenis works. It's pressure, more than friction, that causes all the pleasure.

The chastity belt beeped just as they were finishing up a meal of actually tasty (sprinkled with some kind of spice for the blandness) Galra food goo in Thace’s new quarters on Trugg’s ship. Her ship was docked, for now, but it wouldn’t be staying that way for more than what Keith figured was a day, and how was he supposed to get word to Allura? 

The beep drove thoughts of that right out of his head. So it was tonight, he guessed. He’d lose his virginity and it _probably_ wouldn’t hurt, and… Keith kind of wanted it, but he also didn’t think he’d mind another kissing session and then sleeping with Thace warm against his back. 

“We don’t have to do _anything_ you don’t want, Keith.” Thace was so… self-sacrificing. Not doing it would fuck them both over, and they both knew it, and yet Thace was willing to take that risk for Keith’s dumb comfort. 

“I don’t want to see you hurt.” Keith froze when he said that, because he _meant_ it, personally. It wasn’t just coming from human decency; he was really starting to care for _Thace._ Fuck. And having sex was probably going to scramble him even more, but Keith wasn’t dumb about his own issues. The thought of being seen as someone worthy and sexy and _wanted_ instead of a freak was more appealing than the distant promise of orgasm. And he’d been having to _work_ at keeping sexy thoughts about Thace at bay all day, especially when Vridka’s adventures had turned out to be the exact kind of trashy and explicit romance Keith had suspected it was. Even switching to some kind of guide all about Galra courtship which was dry and technical and hard to understand hand’t helped. He hadn't even gotten to the part that explained bonds either, which had been why he'd picked it.

“And at this point, I think I’d want it regardless. I had so much trouble not thinking about you today; it drove me nuts.” 

Thace made a small choked noise in his throat, and his scent shifted in a way that sent warm curls of want right through Keith. “If you’re certain…” 

Keith narrowed his eyes. “Maybe I should be asking if _you_ want it.” 

It was Thace’s turn to freeze and then he put his face in his hands. “Yes, damn me. I wanted to keep my distance and do it just for your benefit; I _should_ have, but I’ve always been prone to caring too much and…” 

He trailed off, and hearing him say that shouldn’t have cared but _did_ made Keith’s insides do a pleasant flip-flop that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with _feelings_. Keith understood the want to bury his face in his hands and groaned. “This is going to fuck us both up good, isn’t it?” 

“You say that like it hasn’t already,” Thace deadpanned back. 

Keith had to crack a smile and stood up, heart pounding in a way that had more to do with excitement than nerves. “But I should wash the goop off first.” 

Thace nodded and moved to start clearing away their dinner, and Keith didn’t tarry in the shower this time. He followed the doctor-bot’s instructions (space douche, yay) and shoved the body suit into the cleaner to be ready for the morning. The shirt he’d been using to sleep in was on the counter, but with heart in his throat and an electric _burn_ of want rumbling in his groin, he ignored it and walked out of the bathroom naked as the day he was born.

Thace chirped, and half stood from where he’d sat on the bed, shirt already off. His chest was as ripped as Keith had imagined, but his lower stomach was soft, skin almost… loose. He didn’t have a belly button. Then none of those observations mattered, as he ground out Keith’s name, soft and desperate, and that tone was thrilling. Keith felt powerful, in a weird way. 

“Like what you see?” Keith couldn’t resist asking, feeling tight and stretched like a harp string. Pluck him and he’d _sing_. He pushed his bangs out of his eyes and wondered for a brief moment if he should sway his hips or run his hands down his chest or— But he wasn’t putting on a show, not really, was he? 

“Never doubt that. I can see you, smell you.” Thace started shucking his pants off, breathing out in sharp exhales and long, deep inhales. Getting as much of Keith’s (their combined) scent as he could, Keith realized. He all but chirped at the thought of Thace nuzzling him, breathing him in—

Why was that a turn on? And— Keith’s thoughts stuttered to a halt when he saw what was underneath those pants. Thace’s dick was dangling between his legs, _slick_. And feeling a rush of deja vu, Keith realized that aside from being slightly longer than his own (maybe a bit thicker), more textured, and having more pronounced bumps (lobes?) at the tip, it was close to identical. Why did Thace have a dick like Keith’s? 

…Why did _Keith_ have a Galra dick? Why _did_ he make the same sounds, react so strongly to Galra scents, like Galra food so—

The first touch of Thace’s hands, ghosting over the curve of his shoulders, completely drove out anything but touch, sound, _scent_. Keith shivered, chirped, and nearly pitched into Thace’s chest. The super fine velvet fur on Thace’s neck and face and forearms faded into a thicker pelt over his chest and it felt so good when Keith rubbed his nose and cheeks against it. Soft, almost tickling, but it held scent so well. Keith was drowning in it, nuances of spices and musk, and things he couldn’t even begin to put a name to, and he never wanted to leave. He could almost come just from this. 

And from Thace tipping his head down to rub his own nose against Keith’s neck. Knowledge hit like a little epiphany. They were exchanging scent, leaving it all over each other, and hell yeah, that was so much sexier than kissing. 

This wasn’t the only thing he wanted, _needed_. Keith managed to open his eyes, even if they fluttered back shut under the wonderful assault of more important sensations, and he _groaned_. “M’ knees are gonna give out—“ 

“Bed,” Thace gasped against the skin right under his jaw. Suddenly Keith’s feet weren’t on the ground and fuck, Keith wasn’t exactly _light_ , even if he was kinda whip thin. He clamped his thighs around Thace’s waist as he was lifted, chirping again and again. Fuck. _Fuck._ His dick was out, and he was probably getting slick all over Thace’s stomach and that probably shouldn’t have been so incredibly hot. Clawtips trailed ever so gently over the backs of his thighs, and they weren’t soothing exactly, but grounding, helping thoughts come back to some semblance of coherency. 

“How do you want it?” Thace was breathless. Keith had done that. He’d _made_ Thace sound like that. 

“Wha—?” Oh, did Thace mean position? Keith didn’t know. No wait, he did. Thace was safe, and Keith wanted that feeling, along with the rest of everything. “On my back. Wanna be able to watch you—“ 

A split second later his back touched the bed, and Thace was pulling back and _no_ — oh. Thace was pressing cheek rubs and nuzzles against his chest, stomach. His _thighs_ , and Thace came up grinning, cheek wet with proof of Keith’s desire. The sound that burst from Keith’s chest wasn’t a chirp this time, there and gone in a second. Instead it hovered, modulated…

“Trilling for me already.” Thace sounded _awed_ and barely had to crawl to get back up Keith’s body. Having his own cheek and neck smeared with his own slick should have been a turn-off, but instead Keith was making that sound again, not even sure _how_. 

“Please!” Keith dug his fingernails into Thace’s back and tried to hook a knee up over him, pull him down, but Thace was a mountain, as moved by his efforts as rock was by a summer breeze. “Want you need you— in me!” 

He’d thought about it, ached for it, and now he’d seen how beautifully Thace’s dick would fit, and he felt like his hole was _reaching_ for that touch. Thace’s weight settled, enough to be felt, but not enough to crush, and he chirped. 

“Slowly…” 

Something was right _there_ , circling around the rim of his hole and coming so close to dipping in but not quite. Maddening and what even? Keith was making that sound (that trill) again, and Thace answered it. 

“Going to thread my cock up into you all the way, caress your deepest altar.” Thace all but moaned that, so sincere. 

Keith would have laughed if he wasn’t too busy trilling and agreeing. The big bad Galra warrior loved trashy romance stories, and even lifted the purple prose right from them. It was kind of nice, to picture himself and even the body parts that had given him so much trouble as special. Something to be worshipped (at). He tried to tell Thace, but then his world shattered and condensed back into a single point of awareness. 

Thace wasn’t _pushing_ into him, not really. It was a slow undulation, coupled with a barely there rock of Thace’s hips instead of hard thrusting, and he’d never felt anything so good and perfect, rubbing and pushing against the inside at every angle. Up, down, sideways— He nearly sobbed from it, chest getting sore from how hard he was trilling. The twists and wiggles pressed directly against that spot he could never quite reach at first, and _yes_ it was right against the base of his dick. Keith felt like he was being opened up, and compressed at the same time. His own dick was pressed between them, wiggling madly, and after the third firm press against the spot inside he came like a rocket, trilling and gasping Thace’s name. 

Thace trilled back, and wiggled _deeper_. They weren’t done. Oh god. They weren’t even _close_. 

For a while there was nothing but the gentle slide more side to side this time, delightful pressure traveling further and further, and Keith could feel every _inch_. His pleasure pitched higher, _higher_ , and he was reduced to the trilling and gasps of Thace’s name. 

Thace didn’t seem to mind, not saying much more than that, and nuzzling everywhere on Keith’s neck and cheeks and shoulders that he could reach. Keith was getting close, he was sure of it. Just a little more, a little deeper. 

And Thace pulled back from the nuzzling, only to press their foreheads together. “Need to… to know. I didn’t have opportunity to go and try to steal contraceptives and I—“ He trilled, pressed his weight harder against Keith. “If I peak fully inside you it might— Do you want me to?” 

Keith trilled and nodded and finally managed a hoarse yes. Why should he care; he was sterile. No way the Galra goop could have given him actual ovaries or anything (but maybe it had healed the internal gonads the doctors had thought were testes. Keith almost hoped), and besides his uterus was too misshapen to hold a baby inside anyway. 

Then it was like Thace had hit a dead end. Keith could _feel_ Thace’s dick, moving and pressing, and almost massaging— whatever was stopping Thace’s progress _gave_. Keith didn’t know what it was, exactly, but he was swallowed up in the sensation, feeling like a live wire. Pleasure like nothing he’d ever experienced before swallowed him, and he managed one more trill and _came_. 

Never had he felt so _good_ , it burned and felt like a wash of cool ocean waves bringing deep and profound relief, and a ridiculous sense of satisfaction somehow. Once he’d ridden out the first wave, Keith was vaguely aware of shivering, and slow, rippling contractions of his muscles. Oh. His body was trying to milk Thace’s dick and— And that shouldn’t have made him trill and arch and _want_ it. 

Thace trilled one more time, shaking himself, and then sagged, weight heavy and smothering but _good_. 

They were still, panting in the aftermath, Keith feeling so amazingly _full_ , for who knows how long, but then Thace moved. Something inside him relaxed, and Keith mourned the feeling of loss (his hole clenched down a bit, and Thace trilled at it), as Thace’s dick slid out of him, but he knew, logically that they had to separate eventually. He was sticky and probably sweaty, and half sure that the bed beneath them would be a mess of slick and come, but when Thace rolled onto his side, Keith followed. 

“Thank you. I— Thanks.” 

“No, I should thank you.” Thace brushed a kiss to his hair, and as the calming seeped into him from it gently shutting off the current of need, suddenly Keith felt exhaustion taking over. He’d have to think about why everything Galra _fit_ more in the morning…


	8. The Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of all the great comments (and a new record number!) I'm gonna post this one today instead of later in the week. It's a little short, but it's important and works best on its own.
> 
> Fun Fact:  
> \--In this AU, the high level undercover agents get a special Marmora armor with the ridiculous shoulderpads that Ulaz's had. It's a recognition of their sacrifice, and a special "rank", more or less.

Something woke him. Keith wasn’t sure what, and so lay quiet, listening. Thace wasn’t with him; maybe he’d gotten up to use the bathroom and that was—

A swish of the door sliding closed, and a faint glow from the direction of the door. Intruder! Threat!

Except the rest of him wasn’t getting the picture, somehow lost in Thace’s scent and wanting to chirp and open up his thighs and— Well shit, sex had fucked him up in more ways than one. What a time to grow a starving libido. 

The intruder was turned towards the closet, a bundle of some sort in hand. Keith steeled himself and reached under the pillow for his knife (Thace hadn’t complained, after Throk) as slowly and silently as he could; this was his chance. He just had to burn past the desire. Maybe it was because he could only smell Thace? In an enclosed space like this, Keith should have gotten _some_ hint of scent—

Turning. Now or never. With a little snarl as the most he could manage when he’d _wanted_ a fierce startling yell, Keith launched himself off the bed, aiming for the throat. Whoever it was wasn’t in Galra armor, although the figure it cut was similar. There were glowing marks on the chest, and a mask, and ridiculous shoulderpads. Keith didn’t have the luxury of stopping to figure it out. 

There was a flash and a sword blocked his blow. Keith twisted and tried again, slashing. Another block, a stumble back. The wall was close, good. He brought his knife down hard from a high angle, but even as the intruder bumped back against the wall, the sword came up again and caught his knife. Keith strained but there was no breaking past the… guard. 

The _guard_. Everything felt like it froze when he saw it. The exact same glowing sigil that was on his knife. The only connection to his mother; Dad had _promised_ to tell him everything but the accident—

His wrist was in an almost gentle grip, and there was a shimmer— Thace? “Be still, Keith. It’s me. I thought you were sleeping—“ 

“Thace!” But on the heels of relieved shock curled less pleasant feelings. Fear, distrust, betrayal. “What were you _doing_?” 

Thace just wordlessly ducked down and picked up the dropped bundle to present to Keith. Red and white and— oh. _Oh_. “My armor?” 

“I couldn’t find the helmet,” Thace admitted reluctantly, “but this is the rest.” 

“I think I lost it when I was captured,” Keith said, feeling like he was floating, trying to make sense of so many things. He had so many questions, but it was Thace. He let the knife drop to his side, watching in amazement as Thace’s sword was suddenly a nearly identical knife. “What are you _wearing_?”

That wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. _Where did you get that knife? Why is it the same as mine? (How can I make mine change size like that?) Does it have to do with why I’m so… Galra, even though I can’t be? How did my mom get a space knife?_

Thace turned and knelt, carefully putting his own knife into the high security box. He stood up with his pants in his hands and started pulling off the strange armor. “It’s better for stealth; I was trying to avoid being recognized on security feeds.” 

“You’re hiding something,” Keith muttered through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to lean in and breathe in Thace’s scent. “What’s the symbol on your knife stand for?” 

Thace’s back was tight, pulled too straight. “It stands for an obscure sibling-hood that’s fallen out of favor with the Empire.” 

Keith didn’t think that was technically false, and he didn’t smell a lie besides, but something told him Thace _was_ lying. “Tell me the real truth; you’re not. I can feel it!” 

A single, long exhalation escaped Thace, and he dropped his head. “So, the bond has really happened. I wondered, since this wasn’t a natural courtship…” Suddenly Thace was all business. “Put something on; it’ll be too tempting to distract both of us otherwise.” 

Keigh bared his teeth at Thace’s back but did as told. He drew a blank when looking for the shirt, and when he had a spare pair of Thace’s sleep pants on, as awkward and too big and threatening to fall off as they were, Thace was similarly dressed, and came towards him, carrying the box. “Give me your hand.” 

Suspiciously, Keith did so, watching as Thace held his hand to the box and did _something_ , before pressing a sequence on the key pad. The box beeped and popped open, showing both his Paladin armor and Thace’s weird armor inside. Then Thace showed him the sequence again. “Don’t get it wrong; it’s keyed to explode if someone tries to force it.” 

“You’re not answering the question.” Keith had a feeling it wasn’t just privacy that had necessitated the box, and even if he felt better with easy access to his armor, something was still off. 

Thace closed his eyes, and then started speaking in barely over a whisper. “The Blade of Marmora _is_ a sibling-hood. One united in rebelling against the Empire and Zarkon. But we are small, and individual skill can’t make up for being so outmatched even in pure numbers alone. So we wage a guerrilla war, striking from the shadows, and obtaining information through stealth raids and spy work. You knowing even that much threatens everything. If the Druids decided to torture you for information…” 

That explained the identity hiding armor. It didn’t come near to answering most of Keith’s questions. Rebels bounced around in Keith’s head like a shout in an empty cavern. There were Galra that _fought_ against everything Zarkon stood for. Keith wanted to know everything, but he understood. He did. One slip up and everything came crashing down. It hit Keith just how much Thace was risking, to step in and help Keith even in such a round-about way. He wasn’t sure he liked the questions that raised. 

“You’re risking so much… I don’t want— I won’t spill… But I need to know. Why does my knife match yours?” It was such a selfish question, Keith knew it. But it eclipsed everything else, even knowing that Voltron might have an ally out there among the stars. 

Thace looked at him, gaze feeling like weights piling on Keith’s chest. He felt terrible for asking, but he wasn’t backing down. Finally Thace looked away. “Where did you come by it?” 

“I’ve had it all my life. My dad said it was my mom’s… he promised to tell me but then the accident—“ A chilling thought made Keith stop abruptly. Dad had had a box. Not identical, but with the same kind of handprint scan and keypad. Dad had spent _hours_ helping him memorize the complicated sequence when he was little, and promising him that when the time was right, they’d open it together, and he’d tell Keith everything. Then the accident, and the Garrison had confiscated the box, claiming Dad had stolen Garrison secrets… “They stole my past from me.” 

My dad. “My everything. Why do I have it? Who was my mom?” 

Silence. Then, finally, Thace spoke. “A Blade was sent to your planet on a mission some time ago. I can’t tell you anything else.” 

It wasn’t a lie, not really. But! “Liar! You have to know more!” 

Thace snarled, snapped, radiating anger. “Do you have any _idea_ how many lives hang in the balance? How many just one careless word could kill? Not just the lives of my brothers and sisters and siblings in the Blades, but hundreds of billions of conquered peoples, rebellions struggling against Zarkon’s forces, even your own planet! I _can’t_ tell you.” 

“I— I know but— All I remember of my mom is a scent, feelings. Why was she taken away? Why did she leave? Why—“ 

And the anger was gone, Thace’s arms wrapping around him. “I know the sacrifice, the loss. I wish I could tell you everything. But I can tell you that it was all done for you. To protect you, keep you safe. Not the mission, not even your home planet. You.” 

Keith took a ragged breath, _hurting_. Frustrated, angry, _lost_. He understood, but it didn’t make it any better. He knew more than he had, but that almost made it _worse._ He—

“My mom was Galra, wasn’t she? That’s why… why everything _fits_ , why Zarkon thinks he can twist my loyalties.” Thace nodded, and pulled back from the hug as Keith talked, waved his hands at his groin. “I’m not an intersex human… I’m a normal Galra, there, I mean.” 

Thace nodded again. Keith swallowed. _Am I a female Galra?_ But instead he asked, “why do I look so human everywhere else?” 

“I don’t know. Some hybrids very closely resemble their non-Galra parents.” 

Why? But Thace probably didn’t know. “I have so many questions…” 

Thace looked, _smelled_ , so tired. Keith wanted to press, but the idea of hurting Thace for his own wants hurt. “But not right now. Let’s go to bed.” 

As he lay in Thace’s arms, sleep fighting with a thousand questions and worries, Keith felt like a stranger in his own skin. Everything he’d accepted as truth about himself was _wrong_. And now, he was one of the enemy, and would it matter that there were Galra rebelling, and that Keith himself was fighting Zarkon? Probably not to Allura; Zarkon had destroyed everything she’d ever cared about. Galra had wiped out her entire species.


	9. The Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got impatient and decided to post this chapter a day early because we're so close to 1500 hits. 
> 
> Fun facts:  
> \--Galra have four sexes, as described, but the sexes aren't determined by genes. They're determined environmentally, and are pretty heavily dependent on the sex ratios of other Galra around the mothers and developing children. Exposure to pheromones is a big part of it, and because sex isn't "locked in" until puberty, it's possible for a young Galra with strong desire one way or another to effectively choose their own sex if they can access medical care and receive the correct mix of pheromones artificially.  
> \--Keith, because he was around so very few Galra as a child, developed into a switch, or the pinch hitter of Galra reproduction. A switch can fill any role in reproduction, but because they don't specialize, they don't excel at any role.  
> \--Female Galra produce oocytes, and their internal ducts and organs are specialized for producing eggs, which are fertilized and hatch internally. The average is 3-5 eggs. The joeys hatch and are delivered very early in development, and require care in a pouch for a significant amount of time after. But females have reduced pouches and teats that don't naturally produce milk, so thus can't carry the joeys after labor without an intense hormone regimen. But on the flip side, they brood the most often, and in certain conditions, can start brooding again within a week or two after labor.  
> \--Male Galra produce sperm, and their internal equipment is designed so that they can produce quite a bit more in shorter periods of time than many species. When around a brooding Galra, hormones reduce the refractory period down to almost nothing. They also have fully formed pouches and six full teats (some may have additional, reduced teats that can start to function if a primary teat is damaged), able to safely carry four (or more) joeys at once. They can also produce the different formulations of milk from different teats and can potentially carry more than one clutch at a time, although not as well as carriers.  
> \--Switch Galra can do both, but produce fewer eggs (1-3) and less sperm than either males or females. A switch will only brood naturally once or twice a year. They have a pouch, but a small one, and only two formed teats. They're usually slightly smaller physically as well, and have trouble producing enough milk for more than one joey at a time, so they're rarely a first choice for pouch-carrying.  
> \--Carrier Galra don't produce gametes at all, and instead are large in every way. They have as many as 12 teats, and solid frames to support the weight of many additional growing joeys, and a metabolism to produce intense amounts of milk, at a high variety of formulations for differently aged joeys. But they also have a bi-directional birth canal, and can release pheromones to induce a brooding Galra into early labor, and then transport the eggs into their own uterus to finish incubation. They can incubate several clutches at a time, and can selectively pause fetal development so the eggs can hatch and be delivered at the same time, or until an adverse external condition can be rid of.  
> \--Joeys actually receive their DNA from three sources. The first is from the oocyte that forms the center of the egg, the second is from the sperm, and the last is actually from special cells released into first milk, and forms the bulk of their immune systems. While it's possible for a joey to technically have only two genetic parents (either the father also pouch carrying, or a switch pouch carrying their own joey) it's very advantageous to involve 3 separate parents.  
> \--Yes, that's why this fic is tagged "Keith has three parents" If people would like to start guessing, I'll try to think up a reward for let's say the first three that guess correctly. (Although I won't be able to reveal the third parent and the winners for quite a few chapters yet)

Keith was very well aware of what had woken him up this time. _Very_. The memories were fading to a vague fog almost immediately, but he didn’t need the details to know he’d been dreaming about Thace fucking him again. He was a _mess_. Even more of a mess. And, of course, so turned on it almost hurt. 

Thace was holding him, staying very still, but not even trying to pretend to sleep. Keith could smell the arousal pouring off his… consort. Made him want to roll to his back, spread his legs and _beg_ Thace to fuck him for real. The strength of the want was almost frightening, and _why_ did he want it? Was it because Thace was Galra? Because they had this bond thing? Because Keith’s libido had imprinted on the first one to fuck him like a duckling? Because he liked and respected Thace as a person who’d sacrificed so much to help him, and would like to see where this not a romance _yet_ could go in the future? 

Until he had an answer, Keith had no intentions of giving in to his body’s desperate signals, but even that resolve couldn’t stop him from groaning into Thace’s chest. “I didn’t think it was possible to be turned on _more_. Why the hell is my sex drive going nuts?” 

Thace went very still, and then sighed. “Part of it is because it was necessary for our instincts to recognize all this as a true courtship in order to begin a potential consort bond. New consorts usually experience a brief period of heightened attraction and desire for each other. It’s also because you’ve entered your full brooding period, instead of just pre-brooding.”

“Wha…?” But in spite of the confusion, something in him was very approving of the implications, and the shiver of arousal dragged a chirp out of him. 

Thace pulled back and Keith had to fight not to follow. “You’re brooding. Your eggs have surely finished the first stage of development and are ready to be fertilized by now, and that’s why I had to ask last night— You didn’t realize, did you?” 

“The doctors told me I was sterile.” The words sounded hollow and weak even to his own ears. Shit. 

“And your Earthling doctors that wanted to cut you apart definitely know everything about Galra reproduction.” Thace’s voice could not have been drier and more sarcastic. 

“Shit.” Was he _pregnant_? Going to be? Was Thace’s assumption even right? It probably was, but hybrid sterility _was_ a thing. How could he even tell? 

Knowing he could maybe, probably, have kids someday if he wanted definitely wasn’t good enough news to counter the fact that he might have a kid _now_. He wasn’t ready! There was a war going on and he had to fight in the middle of it! He— No, Keith couldn’t panic; panicking was useless. He needed information. 

Keith took a deep breath, then another. He’d just have to assume that Thace was right for now, on account of knowing Galra. He’d prepare for the worst and hope that the doctors had been right. “How… What’s the chance of— um. Shit.” 

“Low, but not zero. Partners who are trying to conceive will engage in full penetration several times a day, usually throughout the full pre-brooding and brooding period. Sperm cells degrade quickly in the uterine fluid, and most will never even encounter any of the germinal disks on the forming eggs, much less manage to fuse with the disk and initiate fertilization.” Thace sounded distraught, regretful. 

Wait. “You said it _had_ to be full penetration when we talked. Because otherwise everyone would know something was up.” 

“Yes, but…” Thace ground his fingertips into one temple, scent going a little sour. Headache? “I should have known you wouldn’t know the risks. I didn’t _think_ —“ 

“Hey. Don’t you _dare_ start doing the blame thing. This was the best choice for both of us.” Keith leaned up and pressed a kiss to where Thace was massaging his head, and got a huff of voiceless laughter against his throat for the effort. “And yeah, I didn’t know, but I would have said yes if I did.” 

He might get _pregnant_. Was he _actually_ female for a Galra, somehow? “Is there a way to reduce the chances?” 

“Several, but the most effective are beyond our reach. If we had a sympathetic doctor, we could get injections for both of us. A gametecide introduced to the uterine fluid would cause cell death in the sperm and break down the germinal disks to the point that eggs would cease to be viable, and a contraceptive would shock our ovotestes into a temporary dormant state. I was finally able to break into the medical stores last night, but I wasn’t able to locate what we needed.” 

Damn. But Thace had said most effective. That meant that there might be other options. “What are the other methods?” 

“Fusion blocking cream.” Thace gestured to a tiny jar that hadn’t been there last night that Keith remembered. “After failing to locate the supplies, I took a chance and approached one of my brothers. He had some that he could give me… along with a lecture.” 

Keith found himself smiling at the little aside, although he wasn’t sure the translator had settled on the right word with brother. It definitely wasn’t the actually-related type of brother. Maybe… oh, like brother-in-arms. That made sense. But it also was a tangent. Back on track, Keith. He tried to push away the by now entirely too familiar burn and tingle of want. He could guess _what_ the cream did, but— “How do we use it?” 

Thace took a deep breath, scent hiking. “The cream is spread on the tip and upper portion of the cock prior to penetration. On peaking, the active ingredients bind with the cell membranes of the sperm, preventing them from being able to fuse with the germinal disk. On full penetration, it will also dissolve into the uterine fluid, and will continue to bind to sperm, until there are no molecules of the agent left unbound. It works well for partners who are regularly sexually active, but optimal saturation of the uterine fluid is slow to build, so it’s far less effective if started during a brooding period.” 

“But still better than doing nothing at all.” Keith fought the urge to chirp. They were gonna have sex again, and dammit, he wanted it so bad. 

“Yes,” it came out of Thace’s mouth more of a gasping groan, and they both leaned back in. Keith arched and twisted, so he could brush his nose and cheek against Thace’s shoulder and get a return gesture. 

And stopped. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to know. “Thace… what am I?” 

Even if his scent wasn’t thick with it, the confusion would have come through clearly in Thace’s voice. “The Paladin of the Red Lion, a clever warrior, brave and—“ 

Keith chirped and almost lost track of what he wanted in the rush of warmth. It wasn’t all arousal. It wasn’t even half. “That’s not— I mean, thanks. But… what am I? The human doctors called me intersex because I don’t remotely fit _either_ human sex, but I can’t figure out what I am to Galra either and… What am I?” 

“I’m really not the best person to explain this,” Thace said softly, but he sat up and scooted so he could lean his shoulders against the wall. “Firstly, since you’ve implied that Earthlings are a bi-sexed species, you should know that Galra are quad-sexed. There are males, females, switches, and carriers. The physical differences are not as pronounced as in most bi-sexed species I know of, and the easiest way to tell another’s sex is through scent. You’re a switch, Keith, and your ovotestes cycle between making and releasing sperm cells, and oocytes to be turned into eggs.” 

“Oh,” Keith said, trying to process and sitting up crosslegged. He had a dick and a v-hole- _canal_ because he was _both_. He could be a dad _and_ a mom (but his someday maybe future kids were still calling him dad, dammit)— But his semen had been tested when he’d told the doctors he ejaculated when he came, even if his dick didn’t get hard. Was he only able to make viable eggs because of his human genes? (Were they even viable?) “So, uh, if I’m making eggs right now, does that mean I’m not making any sperm at all? But I still come, uh, peak with my dick.” 

Thace nodded, smiling a little. “You’ll still excrete seminal fluid, even without the sperm cells present. Right now it has a higher concentration of certain hormones, minerals and enzymes which assist in helping our systems recognize and react properly to each other.” 

Huh. “Okay, so the doctors tested me and said my sperm was malformed and non-motile. I’m guessing this means they _found_ some, but…” 

“Galra are not a species that produce self-motile sperm cells. During full penetration, semen is released directly into the uterine fluid, and the contractions caused by the receiving partner’s peak circulate the semen around the eggs. When the free-floating sperm come into contact with the germinal disk, the cell membrane is dissolved and the DNA is transferred over, beginning the fertilization and triggering the finale egg membranes to grow.” 

That was, okay, maybe Keith should have put two and two together sooner, but. Whoa. He had a cervix, he’d been told, albeit oddly shaped, but it must’ve been very different from a human woman’s to… Well, it’d felt so _good_ when Thace had come up against the dead end in him and then something gave to let Thace through. That must be what he meant by full penetration. Keith was just not going to mention that to any of the others. There was just way too much porn out there revolving around … that kinda thing for Keith to trust the reactions. 

But, regardless of all of that, at least Keith knew now. He was a… both. Switch was a good word for it, from what Thace had described. Keith thought that maybe he should have felt weirder, but he’d known most of his life that he had at least some kind of both parts. It… fit. He was still a man, though, gender-wise. Keith was sure of that. And now that he’d solved that pressing question, he was a man who _really_ needed to not risk getting pregnant, so cream. Sex. 

Keith shivered, because he hadn’t really stopped being turned on, even while they were talking, and just changing focus was enough to bring it surging back forward. He smiled at Thace, and decided he was just going to crawl up there onto Thace’s lap. “Thanks for explaining everything. I just… this is a lot to deal with. I didn’t even know; I thought I was just human with really messed up genes or whatever. Anyway, hi.” 

Thace blinked at him, hands coming to rest lightly on Keith’s hips. “…hi. I’m glad to explain what I can, but I’m really not the best for it. And are you sure you want this?” 

“Yeah. That cream will improve our chances. Kids… just. Not in the middle of a war. I can’t.” Keith wasn’t sure he could do what was necessary if he _did_ get pregnant either. An abortion made so much sense, and was much less cruel than bringing a dependent newborn into a war where their parent was likely to get brutally killed at any battle. Something inside his head shied away hard from the thought, so it was going to be a damn hard decision. Better to just avoid needing to make it. 

“I understand,” Thace said seriously, bringing his hands up to run his fingers through Keith’s hair. That felt so relaxing, and not in a way that ran counter to desire like kissing did. “I’ve avoided taking even temporary partners just for that. To avoid temptation.” 

The part of him that was shying from the abortion thoughts shied _harder_. Keith could read between the lines. Thace wanted kids. That same part of Keith was perking up with joyful interest at the thought of giving Thace kids. Fuck. This bond or hormones or whatever was not helping. 

But Thace was still talking. “—just saying that there were other options. Before you ask, I ache to feel you, hear you, scent you, but I don’t want to be dishonest. One of my self-pleasure aids could be used to do the same thing.”

That made things interesting. Keith actually _had_ a choice. Both options would be the same. The cream would get where it needed to be, and Keith would come. So he could take his time and sort out—

Who was he kidding? There was no way he wasn’t going to end up choosing Thace, even if he still wasn’t sure _why_ he wanted Thace so much. And maybe it’d fuck his head up even more to do so, but the thought of the toy was so completely unappealing right now. 

“You. I want you.” He should probably be honest. Keith bit his lip, but he was already rocking his hips down, chasing the fleeting moments of contact at the bottom of each stroke. “I’m still trying to figure out why. If I want you for _you_ or because hormones or whatever, but fuck, I want you.” 

Thace chirped. “Then you will have me.” 

He pressed their foreheads together, his hands ghosting down Keith’s back, and then shifted to breathe in Keith’s scent and rub against his neck. Fuck, it was such a turn on, knowing they smelled like each other. Keith chirped back, and busied himself rubbing all of his body against Thace. That soft loose skin of Thace’s stomach slid against the same loose skin on Keith’s (another mystery that was probably a Galra thing) and it was so nice. He groaned, chirped, gasped—

—blinked up at Thace, on his back now. Thace smiled almost ruefully. “Okay?” 

“Yeah. Perfect.” Keith arched his back, eyes closed, and felt (smelled) more than anything as Thace moved down his body, rubbing his cheeks and nose for an especially long time over Keith’s stomach. Thace must like the loose skin too. Then he went lower, and Keith knew it was coming. He trilled before Thace’s cheek, so velvety soft, even rubbed over his slick soaked inner thigh. Trilling again, Keith lifted his hips up, so eager at the knowledge that Thace was covered in his slick. Thace grunted in surprise, then chuckled, and Keith could feel the gusts of air over the entrance to his canal and _oh god_ —

Thace’s comm started chiming ominously and insistently. No! Dammit! Keith was going to _kill_ whoever dared interrupt, especially when Thace swore and actually got up to answer it. He gave Keith an apologetic look, and the streak of slick was so shiny across his nose and cheek that Keith almost pulled him back down. Then he spoke. “High priority. I don’t— At this time it’s probably an emergency.” 

“Fuck. Fuck them. Dammit—“ But Keith knew better than to pull Thace back. He started looking for his (because it might as well be his now) nightshirt, but remembered that he’d left it in the bathroom. He couldn’t find Thace’s either (not on Thace, that was for sure), and settled for wrapping himself in the sheet that had been pulled off of the bed at some point anyway. Better than the pants he’d resorted to last night.

Trugg was laughing at Thace already, although Keith noticed that _she_ wasn’t exactly dressed in her armor either. “You look so perfectly disgruntled, Lieutenant! I would leave you to your bonding, but we’ve been summoned. Throk, that little bastard, has gotten Commander Ladnok to support his counter claim. She’s claiming imbalance of power and undue favor. The Emperor has determined that this matter will be resolved now. You’d better be at the audience hall in fifteen.” 

Oh come _on_. Thace put his hand on his chest and bowed, but Keith could smell the frustration coming off him, thick and heavy. They really couldn’t avoid it, but Keith sure was going to express how frustrated they were. He padded over, wrapped in the sheet and not even bothering to hide his scowl. “I despise you right now. I would cut out your ovotestes with my Bayard.” 

Thace turned a warning look at him, but then broke down and chuckled. “My fierce consort.” 

Trugg was grinning too. “I admire your spirit, but it really just isn’t the same without the personal touch of claws or teeth.” 

Keith shrugged. “I didn’t get blessed with either; I’m improvising.” 

“Well you’ve been summoned too, so I welcome your attempt on the ovotestes of one of the people actually responsible. I’ll leave you to your preparations.” Trugg’s smile was like a shark’s mouth. “And you might want to wash that, although I’d be most pleased to see Throk’s face when he saw and _smelled_ the proof on you.” 

She gestured at her cheek with her hand and cut the feed. Thace put his hand up to the spot of slick and groaned. 

Keith echoed it. He was not looking forward to this.


	10. The Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 200 hits in three days, I think that calls for another chapter!
> 
> Also, I've decided that the first three to guess the identity of Keith's third parent correctly will get a short Voltron drabble on a topic that they request. There's a couple things I can't or won't write, and unless specifically requested otherwise, I'll probably go with this fic's details for Galra culture/biology, but I'm pretty open to writing most things!
> 
> Fun Fact:  
> \--Galra have two instinctive stress responses. The first is a traditional fight or flight response. The second they call evict or eviscerate and is fight or flight on steroids. There's an additional hormone dump in addition to adrenaline etc, that drastically increases both aggression and protective and territorial responses. Most also experience a drastic temporary increase in strength and reaction time. It's most commonly evoked in expecting or brand new parents when they feel that their offspring is threatened, and a Galra in the throes of evict or eviscerate will relentlessly attack anything who isn't family until it flees or is in pieces. In prehistory the pieces generally were made into dinner, but now it's frowned on unless it was a non-sentient that triggered the response. It's generally considered a very good idea to get the hell out of dodge until the effected Galra calms down on their own, or is calmed by a family member.

There was a rush to clean up and dress during which Keith hated everything. He felt oversensitive and twitchy, and even without the worries concerning the cream only working before fertilization, his body was desperate for release. For Thace. Ah, _fuck_. 

Thace smelled just as frustrated, at least, but stopped him before they went out of the door. “Be extremely careful. This will probably be a test of which direction your loyalties are… leaning as much as a hearing of the claims.” 

It made a sick kind of sense, and Keith swallowed against a rush of nerves. “So, pretend to be conflicted like before? I… don’t think I can lie through my teeth well enough to get away with being all hail Zarkon.” 

Thace cracked a smile that wasn’t really backed up by his scent. “A sudden reversal would be suspicious besides.” 

Keith nodded and didn’t say anything on the brisk walk, having to jog to keep up with Thace’s strides. They made it _barely_ on time, and Thace was called forward to stand in front of a throne, while Keith was directed against the side wall with a bunch of others that appeared to be underlings of all the Commanders. Or maybe audience. There was a guy with a scar through his eye next to him. Keith had been planning to listen, even if the arguments were basically complicated legalese, but he caught sight of a familiar head of hair standing along the back wall behind the throne and flanked by the creepy dudes that Keith now knew were called druids. She was… she was dressed in the same awful jumpsuit that Galra put all their slaves and prisoners in, and her hands were cuffed in front of her. 

And she was looking right at him, expression _shattered_. Keith knew why. Here he was, in Galra armor, walking free and obeying orders. He was even standing at attention, more or less. It probably looked, _felt_ , like a betrayal. Keith wanted to do or say something to reassure her but Thace’s words echoed in his mind. They were _definitely_ testing him. So Keith looked away, focusing his attention on some lady who… didn’t look much like the other Galra, honestly, snarling about maintaining the balance of power between different commanders’ territories. 

Then something _touched_ him. Keith shifted away from it as subtly as he could. It followed, settling right above his hip and _squeezing_ his side. Scarface was groping him! Keith couldn’t make a scene but he wasn’t going to let it happen either. “Hands off. I won’t tell you again.” 

Scarface didn’t look down, but he was smiling and smelled smug as the hand drifted lower. “That inexperienced lieutenant can’t be pleasing you properly, or even providing for you. I can show you what a _real_ partner can provide you. I’ll make sure every one of your eggs is fertilized and I can afford all the treats a brood mother craves.” 

Ugh. No. Keith ducked, twisted, and jabbed the toe of his boot into the back of Scarface’s knee, causing him to stumble. He was back at attention as smoothly as he could manage a second later. A few around them noticed, but the main group didn’t appear to. Good. “No one touches me without my permission, and guess what? You don’t have it.” 

Keith didn’t think it was over because Galra didn’t know when to quit while they were un-maimed, but he had been expecting at least a few seconds of reprieve. Instead the other soldiers around them closed rank, blocking sight of the platform and throne, and, Keith realized with a sick twist to his stomach, cutting view of what was happening to him off from Thace. 

Keith dodged the first grab, but one of the soldiers blocking the view (and easy escape) snagged his wrist for long enough that he didn’t escape the second. Scarface groaned into his ear, hands curling around his stomach, and armor cutting into his back. “I was told you wanted to be _made_ to submit; I’m going to make you trill for me _right here_. Then we’ll go and clear out your current eggs so you can start fresh with new ones sired by me.” 

Keith saw _red_. How dare— How _dare!_ This… _thing_ was intruding, threatening, and needed to be _removed_. Something that wasn’t a chirp or trill, but was coming from the same place, built up in his chest, like pressure. It burst, a gravely, croaking sound that reminded Keith of a weird cross between a very angry cat, a chainsaw, and a raven’s calls in that brief startled moment before nothing else mattered except removing the intruder. 

He jammed his thumb-tip back, getting Scarface in the eye and _digging in_. The sound only stopped when he breathed before elbowing back hard, and then came back as he shifted, twisted, and grabbed the offender’s head. 

He’d had training, martial arts to give him the focus to behave as a kid. He’d grappled and thrown before, but he’d never managed so much _force_. Scarface went right through the ring and landed hard. And Keith wasn’t _done_. He darted out after, activating his Bayard, and slamming the tip down on Scarface’s arm. Keith was vaguely aware of the sudden scent of blood, and a few drops of warmth splattering over the face. The sound kept going until he had to breathe again. 

“You. Do. Not. Touch. Me.” The sound started up again once he’d ground the words out, and why should he stop there? Wipe out the piece of scum. Kill it. The blood smell was _nice_ ; he’d bring the pieces to Thace and show his consort how _well_ he’d defended them. Keith yanked his Bayard out of its arm to cut off the head—

Touch. But _welcome_ , because Thace’s scent flooded his senses. Keith gulped a breath, blinked, breathed again. A fierce shaking suddenly took him, and he turned his face toward the source of Thace’s scent blindly. It was grounding, easing away the… rage? His chest was hurting now, and he felt like he’d just run a marathon. One of Thace’s hands carded through his hair, claws prickling skin, while Keith stumbled towards Thace’s chest-plate. What the hell had just happened?

Thace’s voice was calm, but his scent was broadcasting fury and… arousal. Okay. What? “Move, and I’ll finish what my consort started. I only stopped them because a quick death is too good for you.” 

“Commander Ladnok,” Trugg’s voice was smooth, _smug_ , “did you order your first lieutenant to seduce my new first lieutenant’s consort away from us? If so, you should have considered your choices more carefully. Triggering a full evict or eviscerate response is _quite_ the impressive failure on his part.” 

“I did not; he moved on his own,” another female voice answered. 

“Is that true?” Zarkon’s voice. 

Keith inwardly winced, but he was mostly too tired to care and had no intention of moving from Thace’s side until he was sure he wasn’t shaking anymore. The crash from an adrenaline rush (which he guessed it must have been) was never pleasant. He mostly tuned out the discussion, in which Scarface revealed under pressure of being turned over to the druids that he had been ordered, and Ladnok’s claim was undermined because of it. He was able to spare the energy for a tight little smile when he found out that Throk had lost half his fleet to Trugg, and had the impossible task of capturing all the Lions himself or being turned over to the druids. Even without Voltron, the others would _cream_ his half-a-fleet.

Once it seemed to be settled, Trugg spoke up again. “My emperor, was that sufficient to prove a consort bond? Calming an evict or eviscerate response is extremely difficult for someone not a consort or a parent, and I think we can all smell that my lieutenant is very much the former here!” 

“It is,” Zarkon said and this time Keith actually looked towards the huge, purple-eyed monster that was the Emperor. He didn’t look particularly invested, honestly. “Your initiative will be rewarded appropriately. Remain when the rest of our business is concluded.” 

“My lord,” said a voice. It was female, and the figure that came forward from the shadows was bent and small, for a Galra, and dressed like the druids but more fancily. Something about her voice was like icy fingers dragging down Keith’s spine. “The formation of a bond is pleasing, but the process is incomplete. Taking into consideration the Red Lion’s preference in pilots, I believe more encouragement is needed.” 

Zarkon just nodded and gestured for her to continue, and Keith fought not to shrink back. “Therefore, Red Paladin, I would like to remind you that should you feel the… urge to return to your former allies, and run from your Emperor’s _gracious_ forgiveness of your crimes against the Empire, that your consort will suffer the full punishment. Once he’s been turned over to the crew for stress relief for a time, I will take possession for experiments. And I will not fail to send the remains to you in the form of one of my creations. Wouldn’t it be poetic for your own scorned consort to become Voltron’s ultimate destruction?”

Her tone was light, almost pleasant. Keith wasn’t going to think about his startle and the way he moved protectively between her and Thace not remotely being a lie. Shit. What should he do? Keith took a breath, and tried not to think about how easy it was to say. “I won’t— I don’t think I could leave him even if I… wanted to. But I’m not bringing you the Red Lion. I won’t!” 

Zarkon rumbled something that might be amusement. “The Lions will all come to us, once the Paladins realize that you cannot be replaced. I have made arrangements for you to be elsewhere, with Commander Trugg’s fleet, to help you resist the temptation of joining them.” 

He had to escape. He had to escape _soon_ or they were all so very fucked. Keith was vaguely aware of Thace stepping back enough to kneel. “I will make sure to instruct my consort on Galra culture and the Empire so that they can understand our glory and find a true home.” 

“When you succeed, your initiative will be rewarded as well, Lieutenant.” Zarkon waved a hand. “This hearing is finished. Dismissed.” 

Everyone bowed or kneeled, except him and Allura. She was staring at him, eyes shimmering with what Keith was sure were tears. Keith looked away after a long painful moment and also bowed, stiff and fighting the urge to draw his Bayard and attack the whole time, but at least moderately successful. Then everyone began piling out, but Trugg held up a hand to stop him and Thace from exiting with the rest. 

She was _happy_ , even if she’d only gotten half a fleet. “A leave shift for you, Lieutenant. Even if I was nose-blind, I could still tell how desperate your consort is to get you somewhere safe and quiet for some good grooming. And then you’ll get to give them some nice, long fuckings to make up for being interrupted! Their eggs won’t self-fertilize, after all!” 

Keith could tell he was blushing but she was right. He felt prickly and anxious and going back to their room (shit, he was thinking of it as _theirs_ ) would help. Thace gave an assent and Keith was nearly tripping over his feet to keep up. 

But the universe wasn’t kind enough to spare him from Allura. The druids and their probable leader were escorting her out. Now that he was closer, he could tell that her usual effervescent scent had gone dull with stress and exhaustion. She didn’t smell ill or hurt, but he could guess that she wasn’t getting rest, and maybe not enough food. She pulled against the one with a hand on her shackles and turned towards him. 

“Keith, _why_.” Her lip trembled. “Why are you letting them doing this to you? You can’t be considering joining Zarkon! Can’t you see what they’re _doing_?” 

Keith couldn’t look at her, feeling sick as guilt twisted through him. He couldn’t tell her. He had to _hurt_ her for them to have any chance of getting out of here. “I… I had to make a choice. I made it.” 

Allura stepped back like she’d been slapped. “But you can’t—! Why can’t you _see?_ They’re all monsters!” 

That was the _perfect_ opening, and Keith found himself laughing, bitterly. “Monsters? All of them? Some of them are _terrible_! But— So many of them are _people_. Just soldiers. I— If they were all monsters I wouldn’t be here right now. I believed you when you told us, but how many people have I killed with Red? How many have to die to stop the few real monsters?” 

How many _had_ he killed? The rebels, Thace’s siblings-in-arms, working to _fight_ the same things he was fighting. The thought was horrifying, and Keith was suddenly fighting _tears_. 

“Keith, _no_.” It was barely a whisper, and Allura let herself be led away without further protest, her head down and her steps stumbling. 

The leader turned around when the group reached the door and her _smile_ was the stuff of nightmares. “Yes, you _will_ be an excellent Red Paladin for my lord when the Black Lion is returned to him, its rightful Paladin.” 

They were gone before Keith could even begin thinking a reply to that, which was a good thing. Because, _what_?! Keith felt like the universe had suddenly turned on its head. Zarkon was the Black Paladin once? 

It was only Thace’s hand on his back that got him moving, and he was still lost in his thoughts when the Commander that he’d nearly hamstrung approached them. Keith just leaned against Thace, playing up the tiredness so he didn’t have to interact, but apparently the man was preparing a traditional feast for new consorts for them, because neither of them had close comrades to throw it for them. 

It was actually a really nice gesture, but didn’t make Keith feel any better about anything. Getting out of this was going to be hell.


	11. The Respite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the wonderful commenters who inspired me to post this early! In this, Keith discovers what other things are happening to him because of Galran medical treatments, and we learn a little about old Korvulk, who'll appear next chapter. 
> 
> Fun Fact:  
> \--Dancing is one of the most well respected and noble of the arts in Galra culture (and was an especial favorite of Zarkon before he turned evil) and there are hundreds of traditional dances for everything from individuals to large groups. Zarkon used to personally sponsor a dance academy to teach it and invent new ones.

Keith held everything in until they got to the room, and then promptly punched the wall so hard he scraped his knuckles. The physical pain was dull and distant compared to the pain in his heart. 

“How am I gonna get her out if she thinks I’m a traitor?” How am I gonna get _me_ out was left unsaid. 

“It will have to be stealth,” Thace said finally, “she’ll be left in Central Command, and the solar barrier would prove difficult for even Voltron to break through. Getting you out will be easier. Once Trugg’s fleet is out past the sensor range of Central Command, I can get you into a hyperspeed capable pod. There are a few planets with active rebellions that could get word back to Voltron. The Olkari are probably the best choice.” 

“Not me. _Us_.” Keith just… he couldn’t. Thace wasn’t going to be raped, tortured and then turned into one of those robot-monster things if he could do something to stop it. 

“Keith—“ 

“No. I know it’s more dangerous, but I—“ Keith winced. “I wasn’t lying. I’m not going to leave you to…that.” 

“I can make my own escape after you are away safely.” There was an odd note to Thace’s voice though, and Keith couldn’t make sense of his scent either. 

Keith shook his head and crossed the room. He leaned up to throw his arms around Thace’s neck, needing the contact, and terrified that he needed it so much. “Together, or it’ll ruin my ability to focus until I know you’re safe.” 

“I—“ Thace sighed. “I should have expected this. Very well, together.” 

Then he stepped back and held out his hand. “Come. Grooming will help you even out after that reaction and I… would like to share that with you.” 

Keith found himself _blushing_ again, but with a warm fuzzy feeling in his heart, he let himself be led into the shower. Once the blood and Scarface’s scent were washed off, Keith did feel less jittery, and it would be a lie to say he wasn’t interested in exploring Thace’s body. 

Claws trailed through his hair and over his skin under the water, followed by gently massaging finger-pads. It made him feel almost boneless, and he did his best to do the same for Thace, regretting his short nails. Thace smiled at him and praised his technique anyway. 

Then he found out what the loose skin was. It moved easily under his hands, and Thace even arched into the touch, humming softly with contentment. Curious, Keith pushed a little more, and the skin split. Well, it didn’t _really_ split because it hadn’t been together in the first place, but it was enough to make Keith go stiff with the worry that he’d hurt Thace. 

Thace shushed him. “It’s just my pouch; you can explore.” 

Thace had a pouch. Thace was a space kangaroo. Keith didn’t know if it was cool or weird, but Thace enjoyed having Keith run careful fingers over the rim, and stretch the skin to peek inside. The fur was especially downy and thick in there, or at least it looked it. There were two layers, one fine, and one stiff and almost barbed. It created insulation, and, Keith realized as he smoothed some down and air whooshed out, helped keep more air in the pouch for breathing. Thace flexed muscles and sure enough, it brought air in and the fur puffed up, but flexing different muscles sent the air back out. 

There were nipples too, six of them (oh god, oh god, they all kept saying _eggs_. Plural) surrounded by the super fine fur like on Thace’s face and neck. And Thace didn’t mind it getting wet at all, so Keith kept prodding for a while as Thace combed claws through his hair. 

But then Thace put hands to Keith’s stomach, and he froze. He had the loose skin, but no opening, and his navel went right through where the middle of it should be. Thace was rubbing it now with a thumb, and Keith looked down on instinct only to discover that his navel had almost disappeared. It’d always looked more like a puckered scar than most people’s did, and now it was barely a shallow dip with clear, unscarred skin filling it in. So Keith had to touch too, putting his hands over Thace’s. 

“It’s changed. I don’t get it…” 

Thace was still rubbing, and his expression went thoughtful. “I think the last round of injections were meant to kickstart your stalled pouch development, as well as treat that strange scar.” 

Okay, so _Keith_ was gonna have a pouch. (Thace didn’t have a navel, even inside the pouch.) That was. Actually, easier to picture than being nine months pregnant with his skinny hips. Maybe not the balance part, but at least he wouldn’t have to push a full-size baby out between there. Keith was pretty sure the effort would break him. Literally. 

Keith was still thinking about it when they got out, and Thace showed him how to use the brush with the cord attached. Turned out it was like a very gentle blow-dryer, to help lift and separate fur and dry it thoroughly. Keith went at it with a will, surprised by how much he was enjoying such a tedious task, and then Thace did his hair in turn. 

It was nice, and Keith felt relaxed and content and _safe_. He sat on the bed that still smelled so strongly of them, meaning to talk some more, but a yawn stopped him, and Keith blinked at Thace in the aftermath. Wow he was still tired, huh? 

Thace just laughed at something he must have said and pulled him close.

* * *

Keith woke up, feeling well rested, and half drowsed in the warmth for a few moments more, resisting coming fully alert. There was a soft, circular motion over the back of his neck, and realizing it was Thace actually woke him fully up. 

“How long was I out?” The want was there, at a low simmer, and it reminded Keith that they hadn’t used the cream yet. What if it was too late? He followed the urge anyway, and Thace’s hands tightened around Keith as his nose brushed the thicker fur on Thace’s chest. 

“Not long,” Thace said, distracted. “Are you sure?”

Wha—Oh, he was asking about the sex. “Yeah. It’s not too late for the cream, is it?” 

“The rate of success will remain approximately the same. The only way to increase it would be multiple applications.” Thace dipped his head and ran his cheek over Keith’s. They both ended up chirping. 

Keith wanted to roll to his back and beg, and he wasn’t going to beg (that’s probably what the chirping and trilling was, honestly) but he had no reason not to go to his back. He tugged Thace with him, groaning. Hair trigger arousal was just so— So much. “Hurry. Don’t wanna be interrupted—“ 

Thace rubbed his cheek and chin over Keith’s throat and along the line of his shoulders. “I will _not_ rush. You deserve to feel good.” 

“Assho—“ Keith was cut off by his own chirp as Thace reversed and rubbed against the spot below his ear. That spot got such intense reactions, Keith realized. One erogenous zone humans and Galra shared? (He’d watched enough people making out in movies and on TV to make the assumption, at least.)

Thace didn’t stop, moving down and paying careful attention to his chest now. He lingered over where Keith knew there were small patches of colored skin, so dark a pink they were almost mauve, on Keith’s chest. They were, the doctors had eventually decided, as far as his body had gotten on forming nipples before saying screw it and giving up. But they were shaped wrong, more like short, lopsided ovals than what an areola should be. Thace was humming over them, rubbing his cheek over them again and again (Keith couldn’t help the mental comparison to a cat, because, _really_ ) and it sent arcs of pleasure sizzling through him. Keith just wasn’t sure if it was the darker patches or just the act of Thace doing the rubbing and getting scent on him. 

“Beautiful,” Thace murmured, “the treatments must have jumpstarted the formation of your markings too.” 

Keith took a second look, wondering what the hell. They weren’t tiny weird ovals anymore, but streaks angling across his pecs. They were also decidedly purple now, not far off the shade he remembered seeing on Thace’s mysterious conversation partner’s face the first night. And there was a second set of paired patches right under his collar-bones that were almost little crescents.

“Stripes? Really?” But Keith choked on a moan and another chirp as Thace moved down farther, and lifted his hips into the touch.

He was so turned on right now. His dick was out and squirming way more (easily) than it ever had before, and he was so wet and slick, and he could _smell_ it. Keith trilled when Thace’s cheek rubbed over his stomach, right between where his hips jutted a little. There was a little burst of pain, but the good kind that said release. It was centered in a bright line across his abdomen and around his navel and—

Thace leaned back far enough to spread his hand over the loose skin that might be a pouch someday and— it gave, separating and, well, it wasn’t might be a pouch, it was one. Keith propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look. There was hair (fur) growing inside and some kind of fluid that Keith was guessing helping it finish growing or whatever. And two actual nipples, smaller than Thace’s but definitely nipples. Well, that was… that. 

Thace smiled at him, soft and sweet, and after a single rub down his thighs which made Keith trill desperately, crawled back up him. Keith rubbed his cheeks and chin over Thace enthusiastically, feeling like he was on fire in the best way but drowning in the individual sensations. The _scent_. The way his own slick was getting over both of their faces. The warmth of Thace’s breaths fluttering across his skin. 

The feeling of something gripping his dick, but Thace’s hands were up by his head, as Thace supported himself on his elbows. Keith managed to peek between them on a long stroke of his cheek over Thace’s shoulders and. Oh. Thace’s dick was wrapped around his, almost gentle, but curled around twice. Keith was lucky if his own curled once during the jerks it made when he came. 

“Your dick— How?” 

It felt amazing as it tightened, smoother and slicker, and more complete than fingers and a palm. Thace chuckled against Keith’s shoulder. “If my guess is right, you should be able to do the same, even if you couldn’t before. Try it.” 

“But… it just jerks when I—“ 

The dick squeezed, rippling up and down his own dick and Keith trilled. God, it felt so good. “Try it,” Thace groaned with a trill of his own, “it takes practice to build dexterity but you should have conscious control. It’s like moving your fingers.” 

Keith didn’t really believe it, but he was seeing it, and in between trilling at the wonderful sensation of having his dick curled around like that, and jerking his hips up, he managed a twitch. Then another. _On his own thought._ Emboldened, Keith tried more, and his dick waved awkwardly, like a newborn animal trying to stand, but he got it looped around Thace’s dick in turn and oh god, oh _god_. 

There was nothing but getting his dick to move, in between waves of pleasure, and watching with amazement as their dicks curled together like— like elephant trunks (he was not calling them tentacles. He wasn’t) and even the lobes at the end made them kind of look like it. His were bigger now, Keith noticed, actual little finger-lobes instead of bumps. And when he concentrated, he could get them to spread apart and squeeze together. He had a prehensile dick, god _damn_ — 

He was coming, overwhelmed from the feelings and the knowledge and Thace’s scent. A faintly cloudy liquid squirted out of his dick while more beaded up at the bases of the lobes, and came running down over Thace’s. They were smeared with it, still curled together, and Keith was so sensitive but didn’t want to stop. 

Thace groaned. “So close to peaking, but—“ 

He pulled back, and Keith nearly sobbed from the loss, but it was only to grab the jar. The cream was thick and sticky, and a pinkish color, and Thace carefully spread it over the tip of his dick, the lobes, and a little way down the sides. Then he took a breath. “Ready? I won’t be able to go slow if we want all the cream where it needs to be.” 

Keith managed a nod, feeling run ragged. Thace leaned over him again, weight settling in a way that felt so pleasant, and Keith spread his legs, lifting and angling his hips and—

Thace had not been lying. He could feel the touch of something cold (the cream) and then a determined wiggle. This time he did sob, but from disoriented pleasure. It felt good, so _good_ , and there was a bit of a burn because Thace was making him stretch and open up suddenly instead of slowly. Not pain, though, even if Keith suspected he’d be a little tender later. 

With desperate trills, Thace worked his hips in little jerks, dick undulating fast but more of a side-to-side direction than in the multitudes of the first time, all of it rougher than the gentle rocking and slow, easy slide of before. Already, Keith could feel Thace so _deep_ and he trilled with it. There was that feeling of being massaged again, and this time Keith could put an image to the sensation. The lobes of Thace’s dick flexing and pressing against his cervix and he opened. He could feel the shiver as muscle inside loosened and gave inward, and Thace pushed. 

He didn’t come just from that this time, although it was a close call. He could feel Thace at that spot, twisting and pressing in different directions against the ring of flesh that had closed back down around him. And Keith could tell it had. He could feel it and— It was like a shudder inside. Keith trilled and gasped. His… uterus felt like it was bearing down, squeezing, and then it released. Then it did it again, and Thace grunted before trilling and shaking. There was a faint feeling, almost of pressure, like adding a little more water to an already full water balloon. 

That was what sent him over, with a trill from his chest and a shriek from his throat, Keith came again—

—And blinked back to being awake? Had he whited out? Thace made a concerned noise, bumping nose against his chin. Keith chirped weakly, feeling like he was still coming, and not coming down at all. He could feel the rippling traveling all the way through him, and each one punched a gasp and a chirp out of him. 

“Wow,” Keith said. Croaked. He sounded so hoarse to his own ears, and was overtaken by a full body shiver as another wave of pleasure and contractions hit him. 

Thace somehow shifted them both, so that Keith was lying on top of Thace’s chest, and Thace’s dick was still so, so deep in him. It… made sense, if the cream had to dissolve. 

“You okay?” Thace finally got out, sounding more than a little hoarse himself. 

“The most okay.” Keith closed his eyes, hearing Thace’s heartbeat beneath an ear and just focused on that and the smells. Who knew if they’d get to have this again?

* * *

Once Keith had come down from the amazing high of a really good orgasm, it was time to work. To make plans, and to argue. 

“No, we can’t leave her; she’ll—“ 

Thace ground his teeth together. “Keith, as _soon_ as they realize she’s out of her cell, the solar barrier will go up and every ship will be searched. There will be no escape and we’ll all be found.” 

It made sense. God, did it make sense. But Allura wouldn’t understand— “Is there a way to get a message to her?” 

That made Thace hesitate. “There might be… but dragging someone else into this risks them. I barely realized what you’d done in time to clear the surveillance the last time you went to see her, so it can’t be either of us.”

“What about… Pidge messed with a sentry and got information from it, and even controlled its movement some. Could we do that to one of them so that it’d give Allura a message and then, uh, self-destruct, or something?” 

“If we had more time.” Thace got up to start pacing. “I know what you want, and why, but we must also consider what they might do to her, if they think we’ve had opportunity to contact her, or if her demeanor changes. It will hurt her, yes, but it may also save her from torture. Zarkon won’t kill her, because she’s bait in his trap for the Lions, but someone can be put through a lot of pain before they’re in danger of death.” 

No. They couldn’t risk that, could they. Dammit. Dammit! But there had to be something… Keith grimaced. “What’s stopping them from torturing her because I’ve escaped?” 

“Nothing.” 

The need to move brought Keith similarly out of his chair. In his path around Thace, he ended up facing the closet. He wanted to open up the box and put on _his_ armor but he wasn’t sure he’d get the code right like— That was an idea. “What if they don’t know I’ve escaped, exactly?” 

Thace came up behind him, hand settling warm and welcome on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?” 

“Would the bomb in your box be strong enough to vaporize bone and stuff, if someone was right on top of it?” When Thace murmured assent, Keith continued, building steam. “What if we recorded a message, and set it to be sent right before we rigged the bomb to go off? If we made them think I killed you and then myself out of guilt and whatever?” 

Thace took a sharp breath in through his nose. “That… could work. The timing would have to be managed carefully, and I think we should be much farther away from Central Command than the original plan, but it could work.” 

“Isn’t Trugg’s territory nearer that base than here?” Thace hadn’t told him exactly where it was, just in case, but Keith had agreed that a Galra trying to join a non-Galra rebellion would be too risky, so a base of his own siblings-in-arms would be their planned destination after the escape. 

“The risk of being tracked is larger, so that isn’t necessarily better, but yes. This plan will require us to do a great deal in a very short stretch of time, because we can’t risk someone finding the message early. Can you manage?” Thace was… Thace was good at this. He could separate from his feelings and think and plan, and here Keith was barely in control of himself and would have suggested they do it now to be ready. 

And Keith didn’t know, but he had to, so he nodded. “So is there anything we can do now?” 

Thace nodded solemnly as he came around from behind Keith, and reached out to take Keith’s hands in his own. Keith didn’t even think before going to Thace and accepting the gesture. “ _Now_ we’re going to get you prepared for Korvulk’s feast. He’s staunchly traditional, and will be pleased if you demonstrate that you’re at least _learning_ the old traditions.” 

Keith remembered what Thace had said about traditionalists, and wrinkled his nose. “I’m really glad he didn’t best me then.” 

For a split second, Thace looked awkward. “If you hadn’t asked me to become involved, I would have suggested him as a possibility for your choice when I passed along your weapons. Of all the Commanders that pressed suit, he would have given you the most respect and protection.” 

Huh. That was. Keith couldn’t imagine it. “So is he…” Keith just sketched the shape of the symbol in the air instead of saying it. 

“No, but he’s someone we’ve been watching closely for a very long time. He has spoken out against the breaking of traditions, but also keeps them, which means he’s very loyal to the idea of the Empire.” 

“But not necessarily the Emperor,” Keith guessed, reading between the lines. 

“He’s… discontent, and disapproves of many things the Emperor has done, but we haven’t yet discovered what trespass against tradition would force him to act. He would make a better Emperor than Zarkon, so if somehow Zarkon were to be killed, we have agreed that the undercover agents would support him in Kral Zera.” Thace was explaining things, but that didn’t mean Keith understood them. Thace just looked up at his questioning noise and shrugged. “That isn’t a tradition you’ll be expected to be fluent in. But you should know a few words in Galran, some dinner etiquette, and then how to give a performance.” 

Keith got the first two, but not the last one did not inspire comfortable thoughts. “Performance?” 

“The new consorts are expected to provide entertainment, as thanks and repayment for the feast. Usually it’s done through some kind of performance, which demonstrates the consorts’ knowledge of our culture and history. I had thought that a dance would suit your skills; I can teach you how to dance the Zirthe with me in the time we have. It’s one of the simplest that would be traditionally offered by new consorts.” Thace looked down at their still clasped hands and then smiled so softly. “I think I would enjoy that.”

Keith squeezed Thace’s hands and took a breath that didn’t steady him at all. “Then let’s do this.” 

Learning a (probably) intimate dance, and then dancing it with Thace wasn’t going to come back to bite him in the ass at _all_ , for sure! (Ha. _Ha!_ )


	12. The Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2000 hits! Wow! I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading this. Posting the next chapter early. 
> 
> Fun facts for this AU:  
> \--The feast has a traditional purpose of letting those who want to be the pouch-mother for the new couple show themselves off (and also get a look at how well the couple fits together), but for less high profile couples, their neighbors and friends would invite the couple to more casual meals for roughly the same purpose. Unfortunately, with changes made to the Empire, pouch-mothering has fallen out of favor, and has become risky to military careers, so most will avoid it and the feasts have all but disappeared from the culture. 
> 
> \--The original species is rare (only a few were rescued or in off-planet zoos when Diabazaal was evacuated), but there are several similar reptiliods that lay eggs of suitable size for the particular delicacy described in this chapter. The folk wisdom associated with the practice is that eating the raw eggs improves fertility, and there is some evidence that the original eggs from Diabazaal actually does work as advertised. And old Korvulk spared no expense for this feast.

Korvulk’s flagship wasn’t really any different than the others, not in design or atmosphere, but there was _something_ … About half-way to their destination, the realization hit. There were fewer than the usual amount of sentries, and the designs and insignia on the walls and doors were both different and more frequent. Keith looked up at Thace questioningly, fighting the urge to fuss with his Galra armor.

Thace shrugged one shoulder. “Traditionalist.” 

Traditionalist meant a lot of things, apparently. Armor was a poor substitute for what they both _should_ have been wearing to this feast, for one. Actually, now that Keith was _looking_ , the light was a bit different too. Brighter, and a different shade of purple, maybe? 

He was trying to keep himself distracted, Keith knew. Even if this guy wasn’t approving of the Emperor, slipping up would be just as disastrous as slipping up in front of Trugg. But they had to attend a dinner, and there would be _expectations_. 

The door opened promptly when Thace pressed the call button and Keith realized just how much nicer the Commanders had it right away. There was an actual entryway, with spaces for weapons and armor to be hung, and an open archway into what appeared to be a small living-room/office. Keith had to fight down unease as he hung up his Bayard and knife, but tradition demanded, and Korvulk rose to greet them when they came in.

Keith _almost_ forgot the weird bow, hands clasped low over his abdomen, and then nearly stumbled in his rush to do it alongside Thace’s own weird (but different) bow. Korvulk was _far_ from displeased though, and it carried in his scent and voice when it boomed. 

First was a phrase that was in such an old form of Galran that the translators couldn’t handle it, because it’d been old and nearly untranslatable even ten thousand years ago. “I _knew_ you respected the traditions, Lieutenant! I’m so pleased to see you taking to them as well, Paladin.” 

He spread his hands in a sweep of the room, and Keith spread his own hands, fighting the urge to hug himself instead. Thace had explained the meaning of the gesture as an offering of trust, and putting the safety of his unborn (and hopefully never conceived) young into Korvulk’s care. Nope. No. Uh-uh. Even if it was just hypothetical kids that would _never_ happen. No. Keith fought the urge to bristle, but he was pretty sure his scent said clearly that he did _not_ like the meaning that came with the gesture. 

Korvulk gave him a knowing look, as he gestured them to follow him. His layered not-quite-robes were certainly _different_ than the usual Galra armor, but had similar decorations all the same, done ornately in gold and orange. Keith could smell the food as soon the door to the next room swished open and his mouth watered. Korvulk’s knowing look deepened. “I know that circumstances must demand some leeway on the traditions, but I appreciate your adherence, even though I’m not the close comrade that you should be giving such gestures to. But in the feast itself, I know you won’t be disappointed. I even acquired the best of Artavok bones for us, as tradition demands.” 

Bones. That meant bone marrow, and Keith almost whimpered with how much he wanted that taste again. When he got back to the Castle he was going to _have_ to ask if Hunk could get his hands on some marrow bones. He’d probably get them all to himself too, because he doubted the others would be interested. There were indeed bones on the small table (it was gonna be a little cramped with them _and_ all the food), each nearly as long as his arm, and just as thick. They were split open lengthwise, and something creamy had been ladled over the steaming marrow in the centers. Keith wanted to sit down and dig in right away, but tradition. 

Korvulk was laughing as he pulled out the chairs for him and Thace to sit in. Keith knew that the new consorts should have their own private table, but even Commanders only had one table to eat at. “I see that bones are a favorite treat of yours, Paladin. I’m glad I went to the expense. Everyone should have Artavok bones once in their life.” 

Keith accepted his seat, ducking his head to hide that he was blushing. “I… um, yeah. Thace made some for us the first night; I never knew what I was missing before.” 

Korvulk seated himself and began dishing out a thick soup, almost black in color, and he raised an eyebrow. “Never knew?” 

Conversation didn’t break from traditions as far as Thace had told him, and now that he spilled it, he was pretty sure that avoiding answers would be rude. So! “Yeah, humans don’t eat things like that, except really rarely as a delicacy. I always had to be really careful what I ate too, because I’d get sick from the weirdest things. I guess I know why, now.” 

“Raised without any knowledge of your heritage,” Korvulk made a noise in his throat that Keith figured was a disapproving tongue click equivalent, “so it pleases me even more to see you learning of our traditions and history.” 

Korvulk finished off the soup by adding a slice of raw, dark meat to the top of each bowl. Keith never thought he’d be eating soup made from blood, and organ meat, and topped off with a piece of raw liver. How weird it was to be eating these things. Keith knew distantly that in other countries sometimes people _did_ eat food made from blood, but it wasn’t like he or his dad had ever lived in a city big enough to have more than Americanized Chinese or Mexican. It was a new experience. 

So was the expectation that he and Thace would feed each other, at least the first bite with the raw liver. Keith guessed it was kind of like the sharing of a wedding cake thing. It… well, they _were_ married, weren’t they? As close as Galra got, at least. Keith did not want to think about that while he was trying to remember a dozen different things, so he opened his mouth for Thace to spoon the bite of liver and soup in. 

Salty. Meaty. It was thick and warm, but not hot (body temperature), and the liver was a little chewy. But much better than Keith would have expected, and he blinked his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them. 

It was his turn now, and Keith hoped desperately that he wouldn’t spill the spoonful, even if the bad luck thing was probably a superstition. He didn’t, but couldn’t help the shudder of want as Thace closed his mouth around the bite and swallowed. Feeding Thace was a turn on? No, maybe it was more… having Thace rely on him for something. 

There was a playful ringing noise as Korvulk tapped his claws on the edge of his glass, as a form of applause. Now the meal could start in earnest. The second course after the soup was a cut of meat from a something-or-other that had been stuffed with something similar to cheese, and then battered with a kind of flour made from a root. Keith’s head had been swimming with too much information to remember the names for everything, but it was delicious. 

The next course was a flower. A literal flower. Thace had told him they were carefully frozen just after fertilization, and there was a rare space wasp (the best the translator could make sense of the Galran words) trapped inside the forming fruit. Keith… had doubts. The coolness of the frozen petals was actually nice though, and when Keith got to the bulge at the base of the flower, he got the first taste of something actually _sweet_ that he’d had since he got captured, although it had a far different character than Earth sweets. A different sugar composition, maybe? Along with the sweet came a burst of sour that was probably the unripe fruit. Unexpectedly tasty. 

And the last course that he’d been waiting for was the bones, kept hot and steaming in some kind of force field, maybe? Thace was given the honor of cutting the bones into sections for eating, and Keith had to hold himself still from digging in right away. 

There was a toast first, and Korvulk brought out a decanter of some shimmering amber liquid. It was a kind of alcohol, and joy of joys, there was going to be a raw egg in Keith’s glass that he was expected to break through with his teeth and suck out the insides of. He was not looking forward to eggshell in his gums, and maybe a little worried that his short, comparatively stubby teeth wouldn’t be up to the challenge. It was some kind of tradition that was supposed to help his eggs catch, and give general good luck. Keith didn’t believe it, but eggs generally were good nutrition.

“May your union be profitable! May you lay waste to your enemies, and bolster your comrades, and your children grow swift and strong.” 

After Korvulk’s toast, Keith lifted his glass, and the egg was right there, sure enough. He drained enough of the glass to get to it, feeling a rush of warmth sliding down his throat, and discovered that it had a flexible, leathery shell, like a lizard’s egg. That made things easier. 

And there wasn’t just yolk and white inside the egg. _Of course_. He was eating a space lizard embryo, and the worst part was that it actually tasted good. Keith swallowed, and struggled with getting the shell out from the inside of his cheek, thankful he didn’t have to eat that too. 

Korvulk was laughing at him, a little bit, but not in a mean way. “The consort of my youth had a terrible time getting the shell out from between her teeth too. You’re not alone. I hear there’s a trick to it…” 

Keith glared, but the bone marrow was calling to him, and there was no traditions stopping him from taking that first blissful bite anymore. It was even _better_ than the marrow Thace had treated him to, but at the same time, Keith would have preferred the first kind again. Because Thace had given it to him and he was not thinking about that, oh no. 

He barely managed to finish, feeling stuffed quite full, and pleasantly sleepy. Korvulk ushered them both back out into the previous room with further glasses of the amber alcohol (no eggs this time) where there was music playing. This was the quiet part of the feast, recovering from the sheer amount of food before the entertainment was put on. 

Keith suspected he’d dozed for a little bit while the other two nursed the alcohol, and he came back to alertness, tucked against Thace’s side, and hearing Korvulk ask a question over the soft music (so different from anything he’d heard on Earth but somehow pleasant.).

“What are your plans for pouch mothering?” 

Keith sat up and Thace’s arm tightened around him a little. Thace’s answer was even and measured. “Myself, most likely. We’re very limited in what options are available to us.” 

During their discussion on some things, he’d learned a little bit more about reproduction, and Keith wracked his brain to recall the details. The start of the talk had been Keith asking what the Galran word for canal was, because he still shied away from thinking of what he had as a vagina, and using canal in English sounded a little weird to him. But they’d moved on, and really, it was easy to realize that having a pouch and nipples meant pretty much the same thing as it did for kangaroos, but hearing it had been something else. More-so that it was usually the _males_ that did the carrying around of the joeys (that was the word the translator had decided on, and Keith probably shouldn’t have been surprised) for the literal years that they were fully dependent on their parents. 

“Mother” in all its forms was also not gendered, at least in the way that humans thought of it. Females and switches like him could be brood-mothers, incubating their eggs (like, actual, almost fist-sized eggs) internally until the joeys hatched. Males and carriers usually took care of all the nursing and carrying the joeys around with them and were called pouch-mothers. “Mom” even had different inflections depending on which mother was being referred too. The translator had decided on Mama to represent the version for pouch-mother. Keith remembered calling his mom Mama when he’d been little and asking Dad about her…did that mean anything?

And after learning that, Keith hadn’t known what to feel when he found out that his new pouch (the fur inside was much thicker, even a couple hours later, thanks to whatever healing gunk had been injected in him) was actually too small to safely carry more than one to term, although in extreme circumstances, a switch _could_ carry two at great risk. It made Keith wonder even more if his mom had been a switch too. Was she even a she?

Korvulk grunted at the answer. “Although it’s touted as the ideal, probably better if you don’t use the professionals. As honorable as the profession is, it’s overused to the point that youngsters so often have weakened immune systems.” 

“I couldn’t afford it either way,” Thace said, while Keith was boggling at the idea. Maybe he shouldn’t have because surrogate mothers were a thing on Earth too, but an _industry_ around it? 

“What? Professionals?” 

Korvulk looked at him weirdly, and Keith winced internally. But he had a good cover for it. “Uh, right. Humans reproduce really differently. _Really_ differently. I didn’t even know I could—“ He choked and coughed on his embarrassment, “conceive before the Rites. Thace is helping me learn, but we haven’t got past the basic mechanics yet, so I don’t mean to ask so many questions, but…” 

That disappointed sound came from Korvulk’s throat again, and Keith smelled something between pity and concern. “Then I am truly glad you finally found your way back to your people, Paladin. I cannot imagine what it must have been like, missing out on the company of one half of what you are. I don’t mind the questions, of course. Improving oneself through knowledge is admirable. It’s merely shocking that you grew up knowing so little. Your pouch-mother should be ashamed for leaving you behind instead of bringing you with them.” 

Keith knew two things right away. One, it was a different ‘them’ than was used for Keith, and he was kind of curious but, really not important. 

And two, Thace didn’t smell like it, but somehow Keith _knew_ that that last sentence had made Thace angry. Instead, he answered the question, voice a little tight. “Most carriers and not a small amount of males enter the creches and are paid by the Empire to carry as many joeys as they physically can. It is an honorable profession, but…” Thace trailed off, shaking his head. 

Keith guessed there was something sinister about it that he didn’t want to explain in front of Korvulk. Except Korvulk was _mad_. “What it’s been twisted into is a disgrace. Carriers are _made_ for it, it’s true, but even they should have ample breaks for their bodies to recover and to carry their bond with their joeys on through childhood properly. Carrying leave should not be so harmful to a soldiers’ carrier as it has become over the centuries. Carrying isn’t weak; I’ve done it myself several times in my youth. I’m proud to be a pouch-mother, and my only regret is outliving so many of my children.” 

There was something wistful in Korvulk’s voice and Keith felt a pang of sympathy. That wasn’t good. Thace expressed the sympathy and agreement out loud, and there was a tension to him, like he was expecting something not good. 

Korvulk looked them both over. “I do admit, I had somewhat of an ulterior motive to this invitation. _Someone_ should keep the traditions alive, it’s true, but I’m old. I have no desire to receive more quintessence infusions to increase my span yet again, and I’ve been thinking a great deal lately on how I would like to make my retirement.” 

“Sir?” Thace said, almost meekly. 

“Now, I won’t fight Commander Trugg for you. Her fleet _is_ a better place for a young Lieutenant’s career! I was most impressed with you as well, Red Paladin. So here is my offer. You won’t go wrong with a respected Commander for your pouch-mother, and it does do joeys far better in the long run to have a proper three parents. I intend to retire from active service shortly regardless, so no worries about your joeys coming into danger. I’ve accumulated more than enough resources for a comfortable life, and as I’ve grown older, I find more and more that I miss the joys of pouch-mothering. The other perks too, if you both were to be amenable.” 

Silence. Then Thace bowed, and Keith wasn’t sure if he was honestly touched and awed, or just had made his voice sound like that to cover up something else. “We’re honored by such a generous offer, and will both consider it with utmost seriousness.” 

It sounded formal, and Keith bowed too, mumbling an agreement. To his surprise, he’d put his hands over his stomach, which was _dumb_ because he wasn’t going to get (egg) pregnant, and didn’t have anything to protect in there. All this talk of babies must be going to his head. But Thace was holding out a hand to him suddenly. Right. The dance. 

Keith stood, not feeling as sluggish now that he’d dozed a bit, and fought not to blush. He was sure he’d failed. The good thing was that the room was bigger than Thace’s whole quarters, so maybe there wouldn’t be any awkward stops. 

Thace bowed to Korvulk again, and clasped his hands in a particular gesture that Keith didn’t remember the meaning of, but did remember he should copy. “We wished to express our joy and satisfaction of the feast to you. Please accept this humble offering of Zirthe.” 

The dance itself wasn’t super difficult, just challenging. None of the movements were beyond what he could do already in a fight, and Keith had gotten good at memorizing kata and things, so remembering what to do and when wasn’t a problem. No, the problem was that the dance _was_ as intimate as he’d worried about, and they’d had to stop four times during the practice because one or both of them got desperately turned on. Keith just hoped that having someone watching would cool off the want a bit. 

Korvulk had already hit a control and started different music, which no surprise, fit the rhythm of the dance in Keith’s head. So Keith took a breath and began. It would probably look much more impressive with the not-robes that Galra apparently liked when they were off duty, but he was pretty sure he looked okay anyway. 

The first step was a slow slide to the side with one foot, followed by a quick snap of his other foot to join the first on what Keith realized now was the downbeat. Thace mirrored him, and they repeated the move several times until they’d inscribed a circle, arms raising with each step. 

The next move required Keith to spin and let himself fall backwards, and the move was judged for skill on how close to the floor they could get before Thace caught him. It’d given him trouble. Not for worry of not being caught, but actually trusting them both and letting the fall start. They’d figured it out by having Thace hold him the first few times, because he could relax into Thace’s hold easily enough to let himself drop back. It was still an effort to fall though. 

But Thace was right there, catching him probably not more than an inch from the floor. A push to reverse his momentum, and a hand for him to catch and pull himself the rest of the way up and into a twirl. Into Thace’s hold, back out. A series of quick steps in rhythm as they travelled across the floor. 

Then another move that was just a bit difficult. Keith lifted his leg in what was essentially a crescent kick over their joined hands. The grip shifted in the middle and Thace did a back bend as Keith let his momentum carry his other leg up and over. Twist and push himself backwards, pulling Thace with him (no easy feat; Thace was _heavy_ ). Now Keith was in a back bend, Thace over him, and a hand settling at the small of his back, pulling them up straight, chest to chest. 

Keith had to fight not to bury his face in Thace’s neck. He was thrumming with want, already feeling the wet of his slick threatening to soak into the armor’s bodysuit. More patterned steps in the hold followed, cutting a curlicue across the floor again. Halfway through, a twist so that Keith’s back was to Thace’s chest, and Keith didn’t _dare_ look up. Having an audience wasn’t helping cool off the desperate desire one bit. 

But they were almost done. Just a few more steps and the acrobatic finale that had made Keith _chirp_ in practice left. The steps were easy, even if the height difference made Keith taking position at Thace’s back and dipping him (as close as they could manage) probably look awkward as hell. Keith tried not to think about how flexible Thace was. 

The finale began with Keith hopping up, holding himself suspended for a split second with one hand braced on Thace’s hand while Thace bent back. One hand because Thace had to put the other down behind him to support Keith, lying arched over Thace’s chest and stomach for a second, before kicking his feet up into a backwards flip over Thace’s shoulders and down. It put his face so close to Thace’s neck as he braced his arms so Thace could turn his own difficult position into a similar move. It left them kneeling and plastered back to front for just a breath. Keith didn’t chirp, but it was a close thing. God, the bodysuit _had_ to be showing some of the wet from his arousal. 

The very last part of the sequence came when Thace swept hands under the backs of Keith’s thighs to stand and lift him. Keith had fallen twice before he’d found the balance point, but he braced his hands against Thace’s forearms, and let his back arch as far as it could go as Thace kept lifting. His hair almost brushed the top of Thace’s head at the apex. Then a thrilling split second of free fall, to let Keith kick and push and twist so he was descending and facing Thace. Hands braced and gripped his hips, and he reached down to support his fall with hands then forearms on Thace’s shoulders. 

They ended up chest to chest (with an unfortunate clank; the dance wasn’t really meant for armored chest plates), with Keith’s arms wrapped around Thace’s shoulders, Thace’s wrapped around Keith’s waist, and Keith’s toes dangling in the air. Thace’s _scent_ , thick with pride and arousal and something that made Keith’s insides flood with a warmth that _wasn’t_ want jumpstarted the temptation to spread his legs and hook them around Thace’s hips— oh damn, he’d just trilled. He’d— fuck. 

Silence, as the song ended. Keith’s muscles were burning in the best way and he was gulping air, and the part of him that cared about the audience was having trouble outshouting the rest of him. 

The almost bell-like tings of claws on glass were enough to give that part of him a boost, and Keith wished very strongly that a hole would open up and swallow him. He’d _trilled_. Thace hadn’t put him down either, holding him just barely on the good side of too tight. A muscle in Thace’s neck was flexing, like he wanted to bend down and— 

“Magnificent,” Korvulk’s voice was rough, and it wasn’t only their own arousal that Keith was smelling right now, “and knowing that you must have learned it for me in less than a shift— I’m truly honored to have given this feast for you.” 

“We’re honored—“ Thace’s voice broke. He still wasn’t letting Keith down. 

“I would offer you my bed to satisfy your need—“ 

Keith knew abruptly that if that happened, he’d end up fucked by more than just Thace. Or Thace would end up fucked while fucking him. Keith was not as opposed as he should be, but the offer also made him feel irrationally protective of… what, he wasn’t sure, and the arousal cooled, just barely. 

“—but your bond is still so new that I doubt it would be comfortable for you. Go, with my blessing.” When Keith managed a glance behind him, Korvulk was sprawled on his space couch, knees spread wide. If Thace had been in a position like that, Keith would have called it inviting. 

Thace took a breath that was as shaky as Keith had ever heard from him and finally put Keith down. He bowed, almost clumsy with it. “You honor us.” 

“You are truly a stellar pair. Now go, before your bewitching scent drives me to distraction.” Korvulk was laughing, cheerful, open, _aroused_ , and followed them to the door. 

Keith almost forgot his Bayard, barely remembering his knife, and then the door opened, and the less… scent full air of the outer halls rushed in. It helped. 

Korvulk’s hand landed lightly on the back of his neck, just a little brush of fingertips. Keith all but squawked in surprise, and Thace made a choked noise of similar origin. Now they were going to be able to smell Korvulk all the way back to Thace’s quarters, intermixed with themselves. This was no accident on the old Commander’s part. He was totally angling for a threesome, wasn’t he?

Damn it.


	13. The Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the wonderful commenters! Receiving comments is so encouraging, and I decided I'd post this chapter really early because of them. 
> 
> Fun Facts for the AU:  
> \--Yes, Galra do "lock" during sex. Physically, the lock is as much an aspect of the internal muscles and the cervix of the receiving partner squeezing down, but the lobes on the tip of the dick also spread out and go rigid to prevent being drawn back down easily. The lock encourages longer orgasms, which helps circulate the sperm better, and also allows for multiple orgasms, if the penetrating partner is up for it. It also allows for excretion and exchange of certain hormones and chemicals which increase bonding and generally make both parties feel really good. The lock lasts for around three and up to ten minutes usually (but longer locks can happen, especially during brooding or after a separation), and ending it early causes physical and emotional discomfort for both partners.

Heads _turned_ , on the way back to Trugg’s ship. But no one approached to hassle them. Trugg herself was waiting at the docking airlock, and actually took a step back when they approached. “Damn, you smell so strong— What did the sly old bastard do, slip aphrodisiacs into your meal?”

“Zirthe,” Thace muttered, “is more intense than I anticipated, even in public.” 

Keith just hissed quietly through clenched teeth; even the walk hadn’t calmed him down and he didn’t want to be _in_ public. Trugg had the gall to laugh at him. “You two are so desperate for each other you’re barely verbal! I just want to know what the old bastard wanted, then you can go ravish each other.” 

Fine, Keith could wait that long. “He made an offer to be our pouch-mother.” 

The practice with Galran earlier had helped Keith hear the actual words beneath the translator, but even so, Keith was surprised that the Galran word for pouch-mother came out of his mouth and actually sounded right. It felt like it fit, like he’d said it before somehow? But he wasn’t going to ponder that right now. 

Trugg didn’t comment on that, but did raise an eyebrow. “What, is he planning to retire? I can’t imagine the Commanders of neighboring territories letting him get away with carrying leave and _not_ trying to commandeer his fleet and steal his territory.” 

Thace nodded once. “He mentioned retirement, yes.” 

“Huh, I never thought we’d be rid of that ancient relic.” Then Trugg waved a hand in front of her face. “Now go! I don’t need the rest of my crew trying to jump each other in the hallways when we’re preparing for launch.” 

They went. On the way the only thoughts in Keith’s head were that they were leaving. The escape plan started as soon as they came back out of hyperspeed. This might well be his last time with Thace in any capacity(and why did that _hurt_?). 

Keith shoved Thace up against the wall as soon as they got to their room, and with a combination of hopping and climbing, shoved his face against Thace’s neck, rubbing his cheek there with a chirp and a desperate (actual) whine. 

Thace rubbed back, chirping again and again, but then carefully pried Keith back far enough to press their foreheads together instead. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, are you?” This was probably a bad idea, and Keith knew it, but he— He didn’t want to leave Thace. He didn’t want Thace to leave. The thought of fighting Zarkon _with_ him was such a good one, and not even in an arousing way (although he sure did have some kind of trust kink). He’d become _attached_ , and maybe they didn’t know each other well enough to be really called friends (yet), but Keith knew he’d jump between Thace and a Galran energy rifle without thinking, just like for any of the others. He _cared_ , and now that he knew that, he wanted to …indulge, because it was entirely selfish and Keith knew it, in this desperate attraction for Thace without anything breathing down his neck. There was no other reason to have sex right now than because he wanted Thace for Thace. And he did, god, he did. 

Thace’s yes was swallowed in a moan as he staggered across the floor with Keith clinging to him. Moments were lost in a desperate scramble to get out of their armor, and Keith ended up hitting the bed hard enough to bounce, with Thace coming down to hover over him, half on the bed, and rubbing a cheek hard against his chest. 

They should take their time, enjoy it. A nasty little voice in the back of Keith’s head kept chanting ‘no time no time no time’ and it was so hard not to listen. So Keith hooked his ankles together behind Thace’s ass and _pulled_. Thace lost his already precarious balance, and Keith ended up winded for his trouble, but oh, the weight pressing him down was so good. 

But then Thace flipped them, and the weight of Keith’s legs hanging off the bed had him sliding a little. Claws tickled at his back and up to his shoulders, and then Thace spread his knees and _groaned_. “Want to have you every way.” 

Thace’s dick was right there, slick and curling in the air. Keith couldn’t resist pressing his nose to the crease of Thace’s thigh and tipping his head so that it curled against his cheek, leaving a slippery wonderful streak. His nose was filled with spice and warmth and a rich complex scent that made him chirp, and he dragged his cheek down the curve of one of Thace’s thighs, like Thace did to him—

Thace had a canal. It was staring him right in the face. Smaller, and closer to Thace’s body than Keith’s own, and not actually connected to the sheath of Thace’s dick, but there was no denying it. Was that what Thace meant? “Thace, you’re—?” 

Thace’s claws found his hair and scratched gently over his scalp. “All Galra have the same parts; they just function differently depending on sex.” 

There was a hint of fond exasperation in his voice, but the tone went soft and thick with need in the next breath. “And I want so very much to feel you threaded up all the way inside me right now.” 

Keith could have come just from those words, and choked on his trill. He was climbing back up Thace’s body in a heartbeat, rubbing his cheek and neck everywhere he could reach. He gasped and Thace chirped when their cheeks touched, transferring the slick. “I’ve never—“ 

“You’ll do _fine_ ; I’ll help you.” There was such _warmth_ in Thace’s voice, and for a second or two, all Keith could do was breathe raggedly and lean his forehead against Thace’s temple. 

Thace helped arrange them so that Keith was kneeling between Thace’s legs and Thace was half reclined with the pillow propped under his back. One knee ended up loosely draped over Keith’s shoulder, and Keith couldn’t help rubbing against the soft fur on the inside of of it. 

Thace wasn’t as _wet_ as Keith always got, but Keith didn’t think that would be a bad thing, and he could _see_ the little tremors and shifts as muscles clenched. His own canal throbbed, almost in time, and Keith had a half-delirious thought that maybe Thace was long enough that if they found the right position, they could fuck each other at the same time. It wasn’t like there was a lot of thrusting involved in Galra sex. 

Thace reached a hand down, cupping Keith’s dick with one palm, and nudging Keith’s other hand down to join and—ohhh, so that’s why it was foreplay. But Thace was urging him gently, “guide the tip in; your instincts will do the rest.” 

It was mesmerizing, and Keith was surprised that he didn’t come right when the sight of the tip of his dick dipping into Thace mixed with the _squeeze_ of Thace’s canal and Thace’s trill. Tight was the first coherent thought, followed by wet, warm, _perfect_. 

“ _Breathe_ —“ Thace’s palms cupped his cheeks, and he leaned in to nuzzle softly against the tip of Keith’s nose. “You feel so good. Wanted this ever since you suggested it the first night—“ 

He broke off in a trill as a twitch of Keith’s dick pushed him deeper. Keith rocked his hips on a half-realized urge more than because it did anything and Thace chuckled. “Instincts, Keith.” 

And his instincts just made his dick twitch and undula—oh. The rocking still felt nice, adding just a little push-pull to the sensation of being enveloped, but it was that back and forth twisting movement of his dick that helped him get deeper. Keith concentrated on the feeling, shifting closer and then burying his face in Thace’s shoulder because it was all so much. They were both trilling now, in between hitched breaths and gasps. The pressure rippled around his dick, helping him slide deeper, and he could twist just right and—

He bumped up against an obstacle. He could feel it against the lobes at the tip of his dick. He let his dick twitch again, but only bumped up against it once more, making Thace chirp and then trill abruptly. Thace’s back was in an arch, and his mouth was open as he panted, eyes fluttering, not quite able to stay open. The picture of it sent a shudder right through Keith, all the way to the tip of his dick and the lobes at the end, which Keith could _feel_ flexing when he focused. Thace started to tremble, trill near constant between his breaths. Keith was on the right track, and the rippling flex around his dick was getting more pronounced. 

It was almost accidental that he figured out how to flex the lobes on command in the right way to rub against the obstacle, and Thace’s trill abruptly kicked up a notch while fingers dug into the flesh above Keith’s hips. A second later it was like something had sucked him in deeper, and then clamped like a ring down just behind the tip. Keith yelled loud enough to drown out his trilling, and then he was coming. Thace’s breath hitched once, making the trill falter, and then Thace _shook_ all the way from inside to out, abrupt squeezes in a breath stealing rhythm around his dick, coaxing up and in and— oh _god_ , it was like he was still coming. 

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how long he remained collapsed against Thace’s chest after that, but it had to have been a couple minutes at least. The pressure around his dick had gone slack, well, less tight, at least, and with no small amount of moving carefully he managed to pull out, although Thace gasped and bore down, trying to keep him. It made the last couple of inches the most maddening amazing wonderful torture, and Keith wondered briefly what the refractory period was for Galra dicks. 

Because the promise of chasing more pleasure inside Thace aside, Keith’s own canal was almost buzzing with pleasured need, trying to bear down on nothing, and god, Keith hoped Thace would be able to fuck him, but he also knew how _good_ it felt to be fucked and how easily he came with his dick just from that. He realized he was trilling almost belatedly when Thace’s hands shifted down to the backs of his thighs and lifted him to straddle Thace’s lap, instead of being between his legs. 

Through slitted eyes, Thace watched Keith’s face for a moment, and then he ducked his head to nuzzle just under Keith’s ear. “I’ve got you, shh. I’ll caress your every depth. I’ll—“ 

“Please—“ Keith interrupted, “need you, god. In me, please!” 

Thace crooned words that made no sense in Keith’s ear, and his scent was warmer than ever, but there was pressure at the rim of Keith’s canal and (they were… forgetting something—) Keith swore he could hear the little pop as the tip of Thace’s dick pushed inside him. The slow writhe had him trembling and choking on the trills, feeling like too much and not enough at the same time. 

The press against the base of his dick from the inside was definitely too much, and Keith nearly screamed, raking fingers down Thace’s shoulders and upper arms, feeling adrift and desperate for something to hold onto. Thace’s arms wrapped around him in response, pulling them tighter together, and it was grounding. It felt fucking _fantastic_ , and he didn’t want the pleasurable torture to end. He was also pretty sure it had been entirely intentional; side to side movements didn’t seem to hit that spot nearly as firmly. 

Keith’s world narrowed down to the feel of Thace sliding ever deeper, and the wonderful feel and scent of Thace rubbing their cheeks together. He was close already, he knew it, and a moment later, or forever, Thace was massaging his cervix. Keith _did_ scream this time as he felt himself open up, short and sharp and coupled with a trill. He was oversensitive in the best way, and feeling like there was even a little pressure from above. Wait. Gravity. 

The realization was pushed aside as he came, shaking with it. He felt himself clenching down, and muscles rippling to milk Thace’s dick and _yes_. Thace was coming too, that faint increase in pressure and Thace’s desperate trill marking it clearly. 

For forever, or just a moment, they lay tangled, Keith on Thace’s lap, and arms tight around each other, and then Thace moved inside him, a long slow undulation from tip to base. Keith couldn’t even trill, too startled and too far beyond pleasure to feel more than overwhelmed. But in such an amazing good way that he pressed his weight down to get more with a little keening noise that came from his throat (god, his chest was sore but why that reminded him of Hunk and Pidge…). 

Thace lifted his chin up from where Keith had nearly ground a groove into Thace’s shoulder with all his nuzzling and rubbing and nuzzled against his throat, groaning out the words. “Think you can peak for me again?” 

Was that even—? _Could_ he? But his brain was lagging behind his tongue, and Keith was already croaking out assent. “Yes, please. _Please_. Make me come again—“ 

“What the _hell_ , Keith?!” Lance’s voice, nearly in hysterics from fury (and hurt, something commented in the back of his head), and sounding weirdly modulated, like it was a recording and not a real thing. 

Something snapped inside him, jagged and relieved and _mortified_. It brought clarity through the haze of pleasure and Keith was abruptly aware that he could _smell_ Pidge and Hunk. But he’d heard Lance, and the disconnect in his brain only got worse when he glanced towards the door and saw four sentries clumped in the doorway and holding Galran energy rifles with varying degrees of (in)competence.

“Guys? Wh—I can hear you and smell you but I can’t see you.” He was hoarse, tired, and enunciating was way more effort than usual. 

“Get inside and close the door before you’re seen!” Thace snapped, so tense he was all but vibrating. 

There was clanking and jostling and one sentry nearly _tripped_ before the door closed. No sentry was that clumsy. And he was still smelling—oh. They’d captured sentries and Pidge and Hunk had rewired and reprogrammed them to be remote operated. That was actually brilliant, but the scent would probably give them away. Keith didn’t think his nose was nearly as good as a full Galra’s. 

Silence. Then one of the sentries pointedly shuffled around, playing with its fingertips in the meantime, to face the far wall. Hunk’s voice came from it. “I’m feeling _very_ uncomfortable right now. I can’t be the only one, I mean— We heard! And that. And… I vote a do-over! We go out, give you five minutes ten? let’s make it ten, to get all untangled and also clothes, clothes would be _great_ , and then we come back in for the dramatic rescue. Who’s with me? Raise your hand.” 

Keith tried to raise himself up, in spite of the way his thighs wanted to shake and tremble right out from under him. He got maybe an inch, but instead of Thace’s dick sliding out of him, on the first pull against his cervix, something (everything) inside of him clenched down hard, punching a whimpering breath out of him and making Thace hiss loudly through clenched teeth. Keith sat back down abruptly, a little bewildered. 

And chirped, as Thace’s dick settling back inside him set off a shiver of pleasure zipping through him. What the hell. Keith let himself sag back forward, feeling almost dizzy from it all. 

There was a sputter that didn’t come through the sentry speakers well, and then Pidge’s voice. “Keith, I think you’ve put on weight? The sensor data I’m getting from these guys is _fantastic_. They even have limited olfactory sensors, although without some way to render it over here, it only comes through as chemical composition and concentration!” 

“Pidge, could you _not_?” Lance again, clearly distraught. “Having one teammate panting after Galra _anything_ is bad enough!” 

The acid in Lance’s voice when he said teammate _stung_. Hunk’s sentry stumbled back against the wall abruptly, gun coming up, and something in Keith curled up inside with a painful snarl. “Lance, shut up!” 

At the same time, Keith heard Shiro’s voice, soft and careful, muffled. “Lance—“ 

Lance _snarled_ , and even without an expression on the sentry, Keith could see it so clearly in his minds’ eye. “No! No, I will not shut up! We’re out there worrying ourselves to death and busting our asses coming up with a plan to rescue you and Allura and here you are _begging_ for Galra cock like your life depends on it!” He lapsed into Spanish for a few words, and sounded way more hurt when he remembered English again. “We heard you scream and we thought you were being tortured or something but you’re so desperate that you can’t even pull away from your— your—“ 

More Spanish, and Keith knew it wasn’t complimentary in the least. If Lance kept up, the translators would eventually get the idea and start compiling but for now it was a mystery that Keith was kind of okay with keeping. He wanted to lash out, because anger was comfortable and familiar, but instead everything hurt, draining his strength with sharp cuts and stings. 

And maybe Lance was a little right. This last time hadn’t been necessary. But Keith didn’t think he could regret it either. His words sounded like a weak defense even if they were true. “My life pretty much _did_ depend on it, Lance. They were gonna— If you’re here you must have seen how many ships there are! They were gonna turn me over to the fleet—or just some Commanders, same difference—for stress release.” 

The moment the words left his lips, Shiro’s sentry dropped like a puppet with the strings cut, and a second later, Pidge’s followed. Keith could pick up muffled feedback in the background, shouting and Coran’s voice, and oh god, what had he done? “Hunk? Lance? What happened? Is Shiro okay?” 

“What makes you think you deserve to know?” Lance snapped.

But at the same time, Hunk said, “flashback, we’re thinking? He’s coming out of it now.” 

Suddenly Shiro’s sentry stood back up. “—said, I’m fine. It wasn’t _me_ ; it was somebody else.” 

“Mind explaining for the rest of us? Actually, not Keith; let’s take this off the—“ Lance was cut off when Shiro’s sentry raised a hand. 

“When I was… fighting, the prisoner in the cell next to mine lost, and when the guards were dragging me back to my cell, I heard them talking about her? him? I don’t know. Talking about them being given to the arena guards for stress release. There was already a crowd outside the cells, and going inside that cell one or two at a time and the screaming just… It didn’t stop; I could still hear it even from the far corner of my cell. Again and again and— When it finally did stop they dragged a body out.” Shiro sounded… _broken_ by the end of the recital, and went quiet and still immediately. 

Keith had been able to guess that it would be something like that even before Thace had all but confirmed it, but there was something very different in hearing Shiro talk about witnessing it even from a distance. Keith dimly realized he was shaking, and it had nothing to do with sex. He’d come… too close. _Way_ too close, to being that nameless arena fighter. Thace had saved him. They’d saved each other. 

And Thace was still helping, trailing claws through his hair and then tipping Keith’s chin up for a kiss. Ugh. His actual desire was very dead, at the moment, but his body still wasn’t taking mixing even recently done sex with kissing very well, and a vaguely uncomfortable shudder later, Keith relaxed into it ( _all_ of him relaxed). It was good and soft and eased his nerves regardless of the unease. There were multiple sputters in the background as Thace pulled back. “That should end the lock, but I’m afraid ending a lock early will probably leave you feeling uncomfortable for a while.” 

Lock? “Are you kidding me?” Keith wanted to protest, but, suddenly the way they always were just… together for a while after made so much sense. “You’re not kidding. Of course not. Why wouldn’t Galra lock together after sex?” 

If Keith was being honest, he was grumbling as much to distract from the fact that he didn’t think he could get up, Thace’s dick stuck in him or not, but Thace caught on. Hands at his hips helped him lift, and Keith hissed, feeling _raw_ and horribly empty inside. But Thace’s dick slid free to lie against his thigh before slowly withdrawing into the sheath, and Keith was able to manage an awkward cross-legged sit between Thace’s legs. He didn’t think he’d get much farther at the moment. Then he put both hands to his face and indulged in a heartfelt groan. Why did things always go so spectacularly wrong? 

Then he looked towards the sentries that his friends (would they still be, after this) were controlling. Lance’s was holding hands out in front, like he was measuring something and then Lance swore quietly, awed sounding, in Spanish. He must have been really upset to keep switching to his native language like that. Hunk’s was making motions like Hunk was trying not to throw up and it was Pidge’s sentry that held up a finger and broke the silence. 

“Okay, avoiding the—“ the sentry did a full body cringe, “rapingtodeath thing at all costs is _definitely_ a good plan, but I’m having trouble getting from point A to point B here.” 

She gestured at him and Thace. Keith didn’t know how to begin to explain it, but Thace slowly and carefully shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Four rifles were suddenly pointed at him and he didn’t even flinch. “I invoked the Rites of Courtship. A Paladin is high enough rank to have the right to call on them, even as an enemy, and having an imperially sanctioned consort offers defense and recourse against those who tried to force Keith anyway.” 

Keith could recognize the particular rhythm of Coran’s voice in the background, prattling on about something or other, even if he couldn’t make out the words. Hunk’s sentry settled into a wide leg stance and the gun came back up. His voice sounded confused and nervous, but there was a core of protective steel there. “Okay, so you got Galra married to avoid the… _that_ , but I’m not really seeing how exchanging just one for untold legion is better. I mean, _objectively_ I guess, but _forced_ is still forced—“ 

The gun started whining, powering up for a shot. Thace didn’t even _move_ an inch and no— Keith stumbled on his abrupt attempt to get up, legs feeling like he’d just run farther than he ever had (sex twice, practice and then performing a physically demanding dance… maybe he kinda _had_ ) but he got between Thace and the guns. 

“I chose Thace! I— It, it’s never been forced. Thace explained everything, asked if I was sure _every_ time, every step, and was slow and gentle about everything. Thace wasn’t even going to get involved in the Rites after saving me from being raped in my cell and explaining what him invoking the Rites meant for me, but I asked him to compete for me. He got me instructions for the Galra simulators, and got my knife and Bayard back for me. He stole my armor back too! And he got me medical care _twice_ , at direct risk to himself. By sticking his neck out for me, he got dragged into the mess and has been under threat of being put through what the Galra were gonna put _me_ through.” Damn, but he sounded—

Pidge’s mutter of “Stockholm's” was almost expected but Keith’s attention zeroed in on Thace’s voice. “Sit, before you fall. I can see you trembling.” 

Keith looked down at himself and realized two things. His legs _were_ trembling, and he was standing entirely naked in front of his friends, with everything he’d tried so carefully to keep hidden for so long on full view. Knowing _why_ he was so different now didn’t fucking help at _all_. With his dick hidden inside the sheath, he looked like a girl at first glance, and he wasn’t one! How could he deal if someone decided to— Mortification hit him like a truck, and Keith’s hands were moving before his brain really caught up with the implications to provide a flimsy too little too late barrier to the exposure. Trying to press his thighs together threw his balance off, and backwards he went. Thace caught him, and Keith felt a burst of relief to have Thace’s thighs beneath his and chest against his back. Warm, solid, _welcome_. And Keith didn’t miss how Thace’s arm, looped loosely around his waist like that, did more than his hands did to hide his groin from view. 

Lance’s sentry wasn’t even trying to hide that he’d been looking, but Pidge’s and Hunk’s had at least more or less averted the optical sensors (but Hunk was fighting not to look). And Shiro… Shiro had seen all of him before, albeit bloody and hurting so much that each step was a challenge. 

Thace bared his teeth at his friend’s puppet-sentries, and Keith knew without a doubt that it wasn’t the first time, even without knowing quite how. But it felt protective, and Keith felt safe as Thace started talking. “I understand that you all have a great deal of complicated things to work out, but even if your presence _hasn’t_ been detected, it won’t be long before the jump to hyperspeed.” 

“I’m pretty sure our repurposing is functionally undetectable, and we did take care to avoid other patrols where we could on boarding. What would give us away?” Pidge always did best with a problem to focus on, and was all business. 

“Odd behavior for sentries aside? I can _smell_ you Paladins all over your projects, and there will be traces of that scent left all along your trail here. If someone isn’t searching for unfamiliar scents, you’ll have more time but someone is _bound_ to notice sooner rather than later.” Thace’s arm tightened just a fraction, and Keith could scent something almost like reluctance from him. “You should take Keith and leave, _immediately_.” 

“You’re coming _with_ us, Thace!” Keith snarled the words out, nearly raising his voice, and pressing further back into Thace’s hold. 

There were protests, Lance’s predictably the loudest, but Shiro’s sentry was very quiet and still. Hunk’s protest cut off abruptly with a concerned “Shiro?” 

Thace’s voice was heavy with that same reluctance. “It’s better this way; I can make my escape on my own once you’re away.” 

Keith felt a burst of concern for Shiro, but he wasn’t going to back down on this. “Like hell you are! I’m not leaving you! They’re going to rape and torture and turn you into a robot-monster!” He turned to glare at his friends. “Thace is coming or I’m _staying_. Our own escape plan is still viable. Hell, me _refusing_ a rescue will probably make Trugg drop her guard and make it easier.” 

“Shiro!” Hunk raised his voice, sounding half panicked. “Oh no, not _again_. Shiro, buddy, come back to us—“ 

But Shiro’s sentry didn’t drop this time, just had a hand raised to its head. There was a hiss of feedback from a gasped breath. Then, “I’m… I’m fine. It wasn’t a bad memory this time. I remember. A Galra. A Galra rescued me and helped me escape. His name was— Ulaz.” 

At almost the same time as Shiro’s last pause, Thace started speaking, but he got to the name just a split second after Shiro did, creating a weird almost-stereo. “It was Ulaz who rescued you, Black Paladin.” 

Shiro’s sentry suddenly took a step forward. “You know him?” 

“He’s one of my brothers in the Blade of Marmora.” Simple. Direct. But Keith could feel Thace’s tension and remembered how just one wrong word could bring everything Thace fought for down. 

“Blade of Marmora…” Shiro’s voice was soft, distant. “Ulaz talked about them too, said they were fighting Zarkon from within.”

“We are.” Thace held very still, and it felt like the room was holding its breath. 

After a beat of that tense silence Shiro spoke up, using his command voice. “Alright team, change of plans. We’re bringing… Thace, right? with us.” 

And… shouting. Keith wasn’t surprised and just let his head fall back against Thace’s shoulder while he tuned it out. Shiro agreed with him; that was the most important thing. 

It was Shiro’s voice that broke through his mental absence. “I understand your reservations, but if this _is_ an ally we can’t leave him. He could give us important information about troop movements, base locations and all of that besides.” 

Shiro’s sentry turned back towards Thace. “But for security we are going to have to ask you to accept restraints once we’re back at the Castle.” 

Keith _bristled_ but Thace kissed his shoulder (Lance made a gagging noise) and spoke up before Keith could get a word in. “I understand, and I accept those conditions. Now, if one of you will go to the closet and get the box hidden under my spare armor. We’re _very_ pressed for time right now.” 

Pidge’s sentry hopped to it, and Pidge oohed and ahed at the box. “Biometric and an entry code. Coded specifically to your DNA, I’m guessing? I wonder if I could crack it—“ 

“Please don’t; it’ll set off the bomb.” Keith wouldn’t put it past her to try, but no, blowing everyone up was not a good idea right now. Hunk made a startled noise in the background while Keith focused on putting his hand to the box and entering the code. 

Pidge’s sentry turned to look, flinched, and looked away again. “I wasn’t expecting it to be keyed to _you_ , Keith. Also why are we not putting on _some_ kind of clothes? It’s really hard not to see things; the visual field of the sensors is _amazing_.” 

Thace reached up to take the opened box from Pidge. “I added Keith’s signature to the box in case he needed his Paladin armor and I wasn’t present.” 

Keith was feeling a little better now, and managed a grin. “That’s why we asked for the box. Clothes.” 

He grabbed his armor out, setting the chest plate and greaves and boots aside, and actually, maybe the box was a little bigger on the inside than the outside? Because Thace’s blade and armor were in there too and not squished. Whatever. He handed the box back to Thace and decided that starting with the bodysuit was easier if he was sitting. Once he’d gotten it up to his thighs though, he had to stand, and the raw, _empty_ feeling inside decided to reassert itself pointedly. He felt off balance, _wrong_ , and couldn’t stop the little hiss of discomfort or his palm pressing against his stomach in a futile effort to ease it. 

Shiro’s tone was sharp, anxious. “Keith? Are you…? Is it…” 

He trailed off awkwardly, and Keith knew what Shiro was asking. Shiro knew exactly what had happened with that bastard, and had added the broken nose to the two black eyes and several other bruises Keith had already given the asshole. Keith just shook his head and focused on getting the bodysuit up over the rest of himself as quickly as possible. 

But Thace stopped him. “The tracker.” 

Oh, right. Shit. Keith ended up standing awkwardly with the suit around his waist for a moment while Thace did _something_ , and then Thace muttered a quiet apology and— “Ow!” 

Thace had something mechanical in his fingertips, a little blood on one end, and along the little tendrils there. Nope. Keith was not thinking about how that’d been mostly _in him_. Thace let it drop. “Now they can’t program it remotely to drop you where you stand.” 

Keith gave Thace a shaky smile as thanks and returned to dressing. He could hear, feel, Thace getting dressed behind him as he pulled on his chest plate and arm guards but Keith wasn’t looking forward to the boots. Thigh armor next then, but a heavy, _tense_ feeling suddenly radiated from low in his stomach, approaching pain but not quite, somehow like but entirely different from the way everything would contract and release when he came. That feeling compounded with the raw, empty feeling in a very unpleasant way.

Keith froze, barely resisting curling around the point of offense, but Shiro was obviously paying close attention. Shiro’s sentry took two steps forward. “Keith, now I _know_ something’s not right. I get that you hate talking about what happened back then, but if… this has exacerbated the damage somehow…” 

“I’m _fine_ ,” Keith snapped. “It’s just a cramp.”

And, Keith realized abruptly, that’s _exactly_ what it was. He’d had cramps exactly once before, not even a week after the bastard, and as freaky as slightly bloody, lumpy fluid suddenly coming out of his canal in a rush each of the last three or four cramps had been, Keith had suffered nothing worse than a stain on one of his pairs of pants. He’d passed it off as a really weird period (weird like him) and now… who’s to say it hadn’t been a normal Galra one? Keith wasn’t going to _ask_ in front of others though. 

“Digestive or… other?” Shiro was being stubborn about this, and normally the concern wouldn’t drive Keith up the wall but. ugh. 

“Other, okay. And it was _fine_ last time; can we drop it?” Keith gritted his teeth, hoping Shiro would. He didn’t want to talk about so many things related to sex right now. Already it was passing, and if it only made him feel _emptier_ , well Keith didn’t have to say it. He got the thigh armor on without incident and sat down to work on the boots. “So, did my helmet end up with you guys?” 

“No worries,” Hunk said cheerfully, and too loudly, “it’s totally waiting in your Lion for you. It got knocked off when the weird dude zapped you.” 

Thace had dressed, except for pulling the hood up and making the mask appear, and his blade was a sword again, sheathed over his shoulder. He abruptly interrupted Shiro’s next question, tone a little sharp as he pulled up the hood and mask. “Questions _later_ ; we need to move. I’ve finished rigging the bomb to explode.”

 _That_ got everybody’s attention, and thankfully the questions stopped. They piled out of the room, Keith snagging up his knife and Bayard along the way and—

Fuck, that was an unusually large grouping of sentries for a patrol, led by two probably lieutenants— That was no regular patrol. 

“Get them; Commander Trugg will have our heads if the Paladin escapes!” 

Nope. Definitely not. Keith charged, Bayard swinging, and when the first sentry ducked it, it got Keith’s knife in its head. Thace’s sword easily sank into the chest of another, and shots fired. Two more fell under Lance’s and Hunk’s sentries’ fire, while Pidge’s sentry was ducking a third. 

That’s when things started falling apart. They were all used to fighting with Bayards (or Shiro’s arm), and only _Keith_ had his, and whatever program they were using for the remote control looked like it was lagging a bit, if the sluggish way Shiro’s was reacting was any indication. Pidge’s sentry took a hit and went down, but probably not out. 

“Guys, fall back! I don’t think we want the Galra to see what Pidge can do with their sentries! Leave it to us.” 

There were protests, but Thace had already closed up a two-man formation with him, and it was _good_ fighting with Thace at his back. Sensing the superior threat, the enemy closed in on them, and really, it was much easier than fighting the heavy hitters in the Rites. Even if Keith was almost certainly going to be feeling it when the adrenaline wore off. 

The rest of the sentries were down in no time, too slow to aim to make up for the close quarters combat. The Galra took a little longer, but Keith got his knife into the neck of the one, then Thace tossed the other one into the first. A stab with Thace’s sword ended them both at once. 

Thace took off down the hall, and Keith only slowed down to grab his knife. The others in their sentries were hard pressed to keep up. Lance’s caught up to them while they ran. “Couldn’t help but notice the marks on your weapons match. Are matching sword-and-knife-sets a Galran wedding tradition or something?”

He was being snide, hurting and aiming to hurt. Keith ignored him and took stock. Pidge’s sentry had lost an arm, and the shoulder joint was sparking badly. Shiro’s had lost the gun, and had crumpled knuckles. Hunk’s and Lance’s were both fine, but they both used guns in fights, so that was probably why. 

They weren’t far from a docking bay, and if they got there, Keith figured they were home—

—Definitely not free. “Commander Trugg! Shit!” 

Anxiety hit him, and hurt and— And another cramp just to make things that much worse. Keith had to hiss from it this time, unable to hold back sign of his discomfort. 

Trugg was in front of an even larger group of soldiers and sentries and had what looked like axes in her hands. She twirled them once, smirking. “Reprogrammed sentries; how clever! And one of the elusive ghosts, finally in my grasp. And you, Paladin. Are you really going to abandon your consort to such a fate?”

“I’d never—“ Shit. She was good with a sword, and she’d be way better with those. Fear tried to crawl up his throat. Along with resentment. If they hadn’t been delayed by the arguing— And then guilt for blaming his friends when it was at least half his fault.

Trugg took an abrupt, deep breath. “But you didn’t, did you? Not _willingly_. I smell fear on you, guilt, resentment…” Another sniff. “A forcibly broken lock and blood. Your _former_ allies just barged in and attacked, didn’t they? They killed my lieutenant while you were locked together, just to rescue someone who didn’t want to be rescued.” 

He could use this, if he could make it smell real. “Shut up, shut up, shutupshutup!” 

Focusing on the idea of Thace, dead and bloody, was way too easy, and the thought _hurt_. 

Trugg’s smile fell. “So it is true. He was such a promising soldier, too. Now, the only thing that remains is vengeance for the fallen. Come, Paladin! Abandon the loyalty that the other Paladins already betrayed. I know that together we can bring them to their knees before our Emperor, and be justly rewarded.” 

“Keith, no!” 

Keith thought it might be Pidge or Hunk, but it didn’t matter. He had the perfect reason, for someone with conflicting loyalties to not follow the Galra when his friends had “killed” his consort. “Liar!”

Focusing on how close he’d come to being that nameless arena fighter made him feel vaguely ill, and it was so easy to picture how he should react to that. “I— I know what Zarkon is gonna do to me now that Thace is— I won’t— I’d die before I got turned over to the fleet for stress release. You’re lying! Manipulating me!” 

“I would not allow someone who’s proven their prowess so thoroughly to be turned over for stress release.” Trugg didn’t smell like she was lying exactly, but she _did_ smell like someone who was trying very hard to convince someone of something. 

“Don’t let them use you like this, Keith!” Pidge’s voice, and the sparking came closer. “We get that you’re hurt and confused right now but just come with us and you’ll see what they’ve really done to you.” 

Pidge was playing along (was she?). Great! But Keith couldn’t let that good feeling slip through. He focused on the resentment he’d felt at them all earlier and made himself flinch. It was easy to make his voice sound dull, defeated. “You’ve already proven my friends right. You don’t care; no one but Thace cared and now he’s— You just want to use me up and toss me aside. I’m only useful so long as you think you can get control of the Red Lion through me. None of you value me like my friends do.”

Aha, there it was. He’d gotten her flat footed, and he could hear awkward clanking behind him. Just play along a little longer, please— 

Trugg’s hands tightened on her axes, and her scent was twisted up on itself. “I _do_ care about you.” _Lie_. “I value the power and will you’ve shown, and I want to see the heights of glory you’ll reach in the Empire.” 

The second one actually wasn’t a lie. Huh. But Keith had an answer. “You don’t! Liar. We had to beg and bribe you just to get me medical care! You only care about your own power and glory.” 

Trugg ground her teeth together. They had her off balance; they had the advantage, and the rest were fodder at best. She was going to charge—

She lowered her weapons. “I will _prove_ that myself and the Empire do value you, Keith. Stand down, men!” 

One started protesting, and had her ax to his throat in a heartbeat. “I said, stand down. We let the Paladin flee, and see just how judgmental the true faces of their former allies are. Where the Empire has welcomed them, Voltron will only give indifference and abuse.” 

She turned, and there was something hot and syrupy in her scent that wasn’t showing on her face. She thought she was playing a great long con. Probably. “Already your body cries out for your lost consort; you can feel it, can’t you? When your “friends” try to force you to purge the last of Thace from you and they _will_ —you know as well as I do that they wouldn’t tolerate a Galra among them, even only half, even only a quarter, much less more than that.—return to me. I will see you safe, even from the Emperor’s ire, and I will make sure you have everything you need to see Thace’s children thrive, even old Korvulk if you truly do want to go traditional about things. So go now, if you’re sure you want to take the risk of losing all of him. I’ll delay my report to show my sincerity.” 

She still wasn’t lying. And the scary part was, doubt curled sickeningly in Keith. His friends were gonna judge; they were _already_ judging. If Keith hadn’t been playing a con on her at the same time, if Thace had _really_ been dead, he probably would have fallen for it. Well, shit. He wasn’t sure how to play this—

“Enough talk; time to leave.” Even though he _knew_ it was Thace, Keith still jumped at the distorted voice crackling through speakers in the mask. It sounded nothing like him. 

The bomb in Thace’s room went off.


	14. The Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with another chapter, and I'd like to thank all the people who left comments. This one is just a short breather chapter before the action kicks up a few notches with the mission to rescue Allura.

They’d been too close; the shockwave had thrown everyone in the hallway. Keith _ached_ all over in the aftermath, but he was piloting a Galran fighter packed with now badly damaged sentries, with Thace behind him. And Trugg hadn’t fired on them once, even though all of her fleet had to know by now. In fact, her ships were all making the jump to hyperspeed.

Unfortunately, Lance’s speaker was still functional enough for Lance to be yelling at him, and frankly Keith had too much shit to deal with right now. “Just shut up, or I swear, I’ll stick my knife right into the audio transcoder and _shut_ you up.” 

“You would not! You need me to guide you back to the Castle.” Lance sounded almost smug, and Keith desperately wanted to prove him wrong. 

“I could sense the Blue Lion on Earth; I can find Red with no trouble. Or did you forget?” 

The long silence said Lance _had_ forgotten. Ha. “Nuh-uh! You totally can’t track us by sensing Red.” 

Dammit. “I can too.” 

“Can’t!” 

“Can!” 

“Can’t!” 

“What _are_ you, children?” Thace sounded utterly exasperated. Keith was instantly regretful of the silly little argument, even if he was desperate for something normal. Arguing with Lance about petty ridiculous things was normal. 

“I guess I missed arguing with Lance over stupid stuff more than I thought.” And that was the closest he was going to come to apologizing for things that felt normal. He felt a little bad for upsetting Thace but he kind of needed the normal, after how his life had turned upside down in… It hadn’t even been a week, had it?

“We should just focus on the mission right now. Until we get to safety; everything is at risk.” That felt like forgiveness, and maybe a little bit of apology for snapping. Keith accepted it. 

They were in a stressful situation, flying right through the middle of Central Command in a fighter, and having to keep changing course to not seem out of place. Keith understood that staying safe and piloting was much more important than comfort, and wished again that the group had allowed Thace to pilot. Thace _had_ proven himself a better pilot but it had been a resounding no from everyone else because no one else _trusted_ Thace. Keith felt a little bit like maybe he should have doubts about trusting Thace too, but after everything that had happened… Ugh. 

He switched course again, tagging along loosely with a formation of fighters returning towards one of the large ships, and then at the last second, peeled back off. Closer, but there was absolutely no ship activity in between his current position and the planet Lance had directed him towards initially. Keith could make a dash for it, and find out if the big rings were well armed, or he could try to find a more circuitous path around to the other side of the damn thing. 

He just…he wanted to be in the Castle again, feeling the Red Lion’s familiar warmth that spoke to him of home in a way none of the places he’d lived on Earth ever had. He was so tempted to just—

“Uh… Keith?” Lance sounded very unsure. “You really don’t have to prove that you can find Red from here.”

“I’m not—“

“Well, Coran says the Lion just activated and is trying to exit the hanger. If Red blows our cover, everybody will know the Castle is here and we’ll be screwed.” 

“Shit.” Dashing it was. “Right. Hold on.” 

“Keith, what are you doiiiiii—“ The vocoder apparently gave out when the sentries were slammed against the back of the tiny fighter from the acceleration. 

For a few seconds, Keith thought they might have escaped notice. Then the beam from an ion cannon almost hit them. Keith pulled into a twisting dive, hit the reverse thrusters to course correct, and jammed the sticks forward to zip off towards the edge of the rings again, not quite on target for the planet. A direct approach would reveal their location as surely as Red would. He could smell (feel) Thace’s approval, and it gave him a grim satisfaction. 

Piloting was something Keith found natural. He was terribly good at it, but more than that, it spoke to him in a way few other things but fighting did. And this? This was a challenge. 

Other fighters were giving chase now, and Keith ducked and rolled the ship to avoid their shots. A quick turn slammed two into each other. Things were fading into simplicity. Dive, ascend, spin, forward thrusters, reverse thrusters, adjust for torque—

They were almost at the ring when a shot hit the one wing. Not impossible to survive, but it reduced maneuverability. To make up for the loss, Keith ducked into the ring’s shadow. Oh look, they _did_ have weaponry, shit. 

It was taking everything he had to keep piloting the wobbling fighter, but he noticed the other fighters were falling back. Of course. Zarkon wanted Keith in his clutches again. If they were captured and Zarkon discovered Thace was still alive, the absolute worst would happen. They could not be captured. Death would literally be better. He didn’t want to die. 

His distraction meant he almost took another hit, and had to take the fighter into a sharp spin, because it was already destabilizing. He had to— There was a spire jutting off the surface of the ring, right before the planet. Weapon mount, had to be. If he could make it explode super close and not fry all his systems…

“That’s incredibly dangerous,” Thace said, breaking the silence for the first time. Keith wasn’t sure how Thace knew what he was thinking but it felt too right to question.

Keith focused on easing the spin a little so it wasn’t so dizzying. “Any better ideas?” 

“No. My fierce, reckless consort.” Thace kissed the top of his head; Keith’s heart felt like it was about to burst.

“Wish me luck.” Keith hit the thrusters, jerking the fighter around to a slightly better approach. Wait for it, wait for it—

He fired all weapons and cranked the joysticks _hard_. A terrifying jerk sent the spin off kilter, and then there was nothing in the view screen but _fire_. The inside of the ship went _hot_ , alarms were ringing everywhere, but they were careening towards the planet at least. 

Keith winced, feeling another cramp starting. “If we can survive the G-forces—“ 

He felt a little like he was being pulled apart by them; the compensator must have gone out. Keith blindly sought out one of Thace’s hands and _hoped_. 

The dizzying motion stopped completely, one second to the next, knocking Keith into the control panel and Thace grunted. Probably thrown into the back of the pilot’s chair. Motion resumed, Keith’s breath caught. He closed his eyes, feeling Red, seeing—

Red’s point of view was always so… vast. It was disorienting, but Red was warm and concerned against his mind and Keith relaxed, checking their surroundings. They’d been followed; shit. Green and Blue streaked past, and Keith prayed that they could take care of the pack of fighters fast. If even one got a message off—

But there was no time. They were in the hanger. Once Red put it down, Keith managed to jam the door controls hard enough that they responded and clambered out, intensely aware of Thace behind him, and the shackles that waited once the others—

They were already here. Shiro had the shackles in his hands and Keith bared teeth at him. “Do we have to do this? Can’t we at least trust Thace enough to leave his ankles free?” 

“Keith.” Thace’s hand came down on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “It must be done. I’ll be fine.” 

“I don’t like it.” But Keith knew further protest would only cause the others to label him as irrational, and the quicker everyone was convinced that he was fine, and in his right mind and not going Stockholm’s Syndrome on Thace, the quicker Thace could be released. But it didn’t mean Keith didn’t hate every moment already. He barely suppressed the urge to bare his teeth again as Thace was cuffed, and followed sullenly, head down. 

Hunk was standing at the back of the hanger with Coran, and fidgeting. “I like, have to go back to the bridge. I should already be there, probably, but I was worried. Are you really okay, Keith?” 

“I’m fine.” Keith regretted snapping immediately. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. I’ve just… it’s been a stressful few days.” 

Putting it mildly. Hunk was clearly anything _but_ convinced, but he let himself be waved away by a cheerful Coran. Coran was usually the one who manned the bridge—

Shiro solved the mystery, speaking with full on command voice. “Right. Let’s get you both to the infirmary and check you out.” 

No. _No_. If they checked… would they realize he was half Galra? Keith stopped dead. “Really, Shiro, I’m _fine_. I don’t need—“ 

“Your head is bleeding,” Shiro deadpanned. 

And so it was, but barely a trickle. “I know you better than that, Shiro. That’s not what you want checked out.” 

“And you need to be dragged kicking and screaming to medical care where that’s involved. So this is me dragging.” Shiro’s voice went soft, familiar. 

Shiro really cared, dammit. But Keith couldn’t let himself _not_ fight, not right now. “Do you blame me?” 

“No, I really don’t.” Shiro leaned over to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder; Keith fought not to flinch and snarl. Why was he so touchy? Usually Shiro was very welcome in his personal space. Shiro frowned, but removed his hand. “But this is space; there’s probably a million different species out here, each with different bodies. I swear there won’t be judging.” 

Keith snorted. “Tell that to Lance; he was staring. And, okay, I get it. I’m glad you take care of me when I just can’t bring myself to, but I _really_ don’t need ca—“

Fucking cramps. It wasn’t any worse than the last one, at least, so they didn’t seem to be building to something like the last ones were, but… “And I really don’t think there’s anything Coran can do for me. No offense, Coran.” 

“None taken, none at all! I’m only fully trained in operating the pods and handling simple first aid, after all! I was an assistant for everything else. An excellent one, if I do say so myself, but I’ll be the first to admit that there are gaps in my knowledge where the intricacies of reproduction are involved.” Coran was gesturing extravagantly, as was his wont, and then turned with a bow. “But never fear, you’re in excellent hands. We _do_ have an detailed medical library on many different species.” 

Keith was anything but sure but didn’t protest the rest of the way, even when Coran told him to lie back on a cold metal table. 

“We’ll start with a scan, nothing invasive.” Then Coran’s cheer dropped. “I’m aware that this is sensitive, but Shiro did mention that there would be scarring. Have you experienced any pain, on ah, well! He does appear to be quite the strapping young Galra.” 

Keith wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back out. The scan was trailing lines of light over him, and he should really answer. “It’s been taken care of. They healed it when… It’s all been healed. I’m telling you, I’m _fine_.” 

“Well then, one worry solved! Are you in any discomfort right now?” The scan beeped, and Coran turned his back to work the controls. 

He felt raw, _empty_. What Keith really wanted was to go and ride Thace’s dick again, and maybe figure out if he _could_ have multiple orgasms that weren’t in the sense of coming from his dick and then coming from being fucked. He figured that wouldn’t be a suggested treatment. “Some cramps, but I’m fine.” 

“You said that last time,” Shiro said accusingly, “and what was coming out of you was actual _blood_ blood and something lumpy and gross.” 

“It was mostly something else!” Keith protested, but Thace’s head had snapped up. 

He frowned at Keith. “Was it after the assault that caused the scarring?” 

Keith nodded mutely, and felt as much as saw Thace relaxing. He wasn’t sure why it meant Thace wasn’t very worried about blood-blood coming from his canal but he did feel a little better about it himself. 

Shiro was staring at Thace, and Coran was fussing with the results of the scan while chatting on. “Cramps can be a completely normal occurrence in many species who possess uterine-like organs, and even some who don’t! The causes can be a bit va—oh. Oh quiznak.” 

“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” Shiro was crossing the room to peer at the screen and Coran pushed him away. 

He was completely serious for once. “It’s something I need to speak about with Keith and his consort privately. Nothing life threatening, I assure you.” 

Shiro didn’t want to leave, that was clear, but with a worried look at Keith he finally exited the room. Keith sat up, feeling like he needed to be ready to move. Coran had figured it out, Keith was pretty sure. 

And he’d never heard Coran speak so quietly. “When Shiro tried to prepare me for your … typical reluctance to receive care in this area, he mentioned that you were something Earthlings call intersex, that’s typically caused by genetic faults. Would you agree that that’s… what you are?” 

“Shit.” Keith wanted to run, but better to admit it. “I… used to, before all this. I just found out I’m actually not.” 

“Oh thank goodness,” Coran smiled as he spoke but it was thin, “I certainly didn’t want to be the one to break the news that you were part Galra. And nothing to worry about concerning me, Keith. Allura… may need some time, but I spent many, many decaphoebs knowing Galra as allies before the war. I’ve seen both the good and the worst, you could say. I will not judge anyone by their species, merely their actions, and yours have been nothing short of spectacular!” 

That was… better than expected. “Okay. Can I go now?” 

“Not quite! Not just yet. There’s that cut on your head to treat yet, of course, and we should also treat the source of those cramps. I heard the bit about the broken lock, so I’m not surprised, now that I know your heritage, but they can last for quintants and become quite distracting indeed—“ 

Thace sounded almost grumpy, “you say treat, but if you know the source, why are you positing treating it at all with me in chains?” 

Was that the Altean equivalent of a blush? “Yes, well, the _natural_ method is usually preferred, but we’re strapped for time and the other… issues. But never fear! I’m reasonably sure I remember how to whip up a chemical fix for the both of you in forty ticks! Well, that’s about how long I remember it taking, at least.” 

The treatment turned out to need blood samples from both of them, and Coran hummed the whole time. About three minutes of it, instead of forty ticks. Coran presented them with two vials of clear liquid, triumphantly. “Now, suppository or dermal absorption application is probably best, but again, pressed for time. So how are you two with injections?” 

Why did he even ask? Even if Keith hadn’t been fine, he would have accepted it. He somehow was almost expecting it when it only took forty ticks for him to start feeling it. Keith was surprised at how tense and on edge he’d been, and the abrupt easing of the cramp was a blessing. Huh. “So I know ‘broken lock’ but why did this happen?” 

“Well, other species tend to get caught up in thinking that the purely physical aspect of the lock, with the receiving partner locking down as it were, and the penetrating partner experiencing the dirax splay, is the be all and end all of it. But really, the most important part is the exchange of hormones and other chemicals that happens during and after. When it’s cut short, the body having a tantrum about not getting those hormones is a very common reaction.”

“Wait just a minute—“ When the hell had Lance come back?! “Are you trying to say that Galra have like… addictive spunk or something?” 

“I have _no_ idea what spunk even is, young man! And you shouldn’t be listening in. Off with you now; this is private medical care!” Coran was actually kinda impressive when he scolded. 

Lance probably realized that retreating was the right choice, and left with some grumbling. 

Keith was not looking forward to being in the same room as him, after this. But. “Can I go _now_?” 

“Your head still needs attention,” Coran fussed with supplies, “and I’ve been putting the most important thing off, to be honest. We need to discuss the eggs.” 

No. Nope. He just didn’t have the energy to think about what if he was pregnant right now. Keith froze. 

And then Hunk’s voice came over the Castle’s intercom. “So! Good news, bad news. Good news is the Galra haven’t found us yet. Bad news is that they’re sweeping the atmosphere with some really heavy duty scans and probably _will_ find us soon. Shiro says suit up; it’ll have to be the Voltron plan.”

Shit. Keith hopped off the bed and ran to the comm unit. “Wait, no. They’ve got a solar barrier. Voltron shows, and we all get trapped inside. The only way to shut the thing off is somewhere inside Central Command.”

There was a lot of swearing from everybody, and then Keith felt Thace’s warmth behind him. His voice was gentle, carefully measured. “I know the location of that control room, and the most efficient routes to reach it. I also know where the Princess was being held, at least before Trugg’s fleet launched. May I be of service?” 

There was a little twist in his voice, almost humorous. Maybe _this_ would help the others trust Thace.


	15. The Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's commented! Another chapter for you all.
> 
> And Zarkon is a huge dick (like more of a dick than his evilness usually is) to Keith, so be forewarned.

Thace produced a tiny chip from under one of his claws once they made it to the bridge. Coran insisted they put up what was essentially a firewall around part of the Castle’s computer before they used it, but no one regretted making the attempt when Thace brought up detailed schematics of the big ship in the core of Central Command. 

Keith even recognized part of the floor plan, and pointed out where he thought Allura was being held. Thace smiled at him. “Correct, at least as of Trugg’s ship undocking. However, she may have been moved when news of your escape broke.” 

He manipulated the map to highlight somewhere that Keith knew was _very_ far away on foot, even if it didn’t look bad on the map. “And this is the control room for the solar barrier. On account of my ‘death’ I can give you codes that should allow security access and they shouldn’t have been changed, but…” 

“Someone walking around with a sentry arm would probably raise alarm bells, huh?” Pidge said, peering more closely at the screen. “And our minions are all too beat up. Give me and Hunk a few hours and we can get one back together out of the parts of the rest, but we don’t have that kind of time.” 

“So to get to that thing to shut it down, we need Shiro’s arm, or…” Hunk paused, and everybody looked at Thace. Then Hunk cast a guilty look at Keith. “You’re helping us and all, but you’ll have to excuse us for being really gun-shy about Galra in general.” 

“I’ll do it.” Keith did not want to be in that ship, ever again, and his skin crawled at the thought, but it was also better than sending Shiro in, who’d been a Galra prisoner for _a year_. 

“I think you missed the part where it has to be a Galra or somebody with Galra tech,” Lance said, but then his expression went abruptly slack, words slowing to a halt before starting up again, “and there’s like, no way around… it. You activated those bay doors on the Balmera! How _did_ you do that?” 

Shit. “Nevermind that; I just can, okay?” 

Thace snarled, quiet, protective. “You will _not_ go. I understand your protectiveness, and that you believe your experience to give you an edge, but your scent will ensnare the full attention of every Galra in the halls you go through. You _will_ be tracked, mercilessly, and eventually there will be too many for you to fight off. If there’s absolutely no other way, very well, but the risk is far too great for you to be the first choice.” 

That… That was a very bad thought. Very, very bad. Keith’s bristle at being told what he could and couldn’t do died abruptly. “But Shiro—“ 

Coran coughed. “I’m going to have to agree with our guest. I might not have a Galran nose, but the scans in the infirmary spelled out the same thing.” 

Lance leaned over and sniffed, loudly, while Hunk wrung his hands. “So, is Keith some kind of Galra catnip or something? Everybody keeps talking about his smell.” 

“No amazing smells here,” Lance announced. “Just sweat and what I think might be se—and I just remembered what we walked in on and grossed myself out again.” 

He eyed Keith for a long moment like he might be a bug or something. “ _Seriously_ , Keith. Timing aside, I’m a full hundred percent behind you having your great big sexual awakening and discovering that cock… really big cock, is what does it for you. But _Galra_ cock? Come on, couldn’t you have started crushing on, like, Hunk? Or even me; I know what a handsome stud I am. I’d be totally flattered, even if I’d have to turn you down. Gently! I’d do it gently.”

Hunk was protesting, and Shiro gave out a low warning in the form of Lance’s name, but Lance was gone, listening to no one but himself. He held his hands out in front of him like he was measuring something again, and looked over at Shiro for a second. “Or, I’d bet that Shiro’s packing the inches that’d—“

Oh _no_. Keith shuddered at even the suggestion. “Shiro’s like a brother to me! Gross, Lance!” 

At the very same time, Shiro smacked Lance upside the head, gently. “Keith’s my foster brother, and could we please focus on the rescue mission?”

Hunk turned to Pidge. “I didn’t know that; did you know that?” 

Pidge shrugged. “I thought everybody knew that. But what’s the plan? If Shiro’s going into the big ship, what’s going to happen to Black in the meantime?” 

That— Keith swallowed. He didn’t want it to be true, but if it was… “Coran, you and Allura never told us who the original Black Paladin was. Who was he?” 

Coran froze, and it lasted long enough for everyone to stare. “Ah, well, I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that you were told. Yes, it was Zarkon. We— We didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge before you’d all fully bonded with your Lions.” 

No one said anything, although Lance was trying and making faces when words failed him. Shiro finally let out a carefully controlled breath. “What does that mean for us?” 

“That I’m afraid we could only guess at. You all are only the second generation of Paladins.” Coran paused and fussed with his mustache. “I don’t doubt that he still has the Black Bayard, but as for the rest… His bond with the Black Lion may have broken long ago, but on the other hand, it may still exist. In short, we have no idea what might happen.”

Shiro put a hand to his forehead. “What’s the worst outcome that you can think of?” 

“Hmm,” Coran said, cheer holding on by a thread. “Well, absolute worst I could think of is Zarkon reasserting his bond and taking full control of the Black Lion, and reclaiming all of Voltron for himself.” 

“That,” Hunk breathed out sharply, “sure is worst. Yeah.”

* * *

So _maybe_ the plan to leave the Black Lion on the Castle (still hidden for the moment), while the rest of them tried to blitz Central Command had been put together a little hastily. 

Keith was in the lead, using Red’s speed to streak through the ships littering the area as quickly as possible. Shiro was standing behind him, ready to be deposited on the side of the ship, to break in and bring the barrier down. 

As they’d known would happen, the barrier went up the second after they’d appeared, covering _everything_. Unexpectedly, not a single ship or fighter was going after _him_. He’d been supposed to draw some fire away from the others, dammit!

And now he was being _hailed_ , by Zarkon of all people. It was almost comforting that Red really didn’t like Zarkon one bit, but the horror that Zarkon could force a channel to activate balanced that out. 

At least it was audio only, and Keith had gotten the usual channel shut down in time. They really didn’t need to hear this; it was probably gonna be _bad_. The only chance they had was in the element of surprise and no one being distracted. Zarkon’s voice still made the hair on Keith’s head stand up. “Red Paladin, why do you deny the truth? My patience with your denial of yourself and your place has limits.” 

Keith knew Shiro was tense behind him, but he stayed carefully silent. Keith just snarled, not trusting himself to say anything either. What could he say? Now that he was back with the team, there wasn’t really a reason to keep up the ruse that his loyalties were divided, but so close to the worst danger, Keith didn’t even dare _risk_ giving Zarkon the slightest reason to suspect Thace wasn’t dead either. 

Zarkon made the same disappointed sound that Korvulk had made. “And the traitorous Paladins have forced you to fight when you must be in agony and anguish from their murder of your consort. Abandon the lie, and return to us. I plan to give Lieutenant Thace a funeral with the highest honors for his sacrifice. It will ease your grief to attend.” 

“You’re just trying to manipulate me! They warned me you’d do this! Shut up!” Keeping up the ruse it was, then. Keith didn’t like where this was headed, and Shiro reached down to squeeze his shoulder. 

“I’m not manipulating you; you’re just denying the truth. How long can you even continue to hide yourself from the traitorous Paladins? Deny your body and your children proper nutrition and medical care, and the comforting and familiar scents of other Galra? The Altean Princess was so disgusted to learn she’d been harboring one of my people.” 

Keith froze for a split second, hoping Shiro’s sharp breath didn’t pick up. Shit. Shit. Shiro had to have put two and two together with it so plainly stated. “Comforting?” Keith hated how shrill he sounded, panic trying to crawl up his throat. “Only Thace’s scent was ever comforting and he’s— You bastard! Your soldiers tried to rape me three times and publicly threatened me with rape even more than that! _You_ threatened me with being turned over to your entire fucking fleet for stress release! And you didn’t even punish them! You let Throk try to court me, and bent the rules for him _twice_ when he should have been rejected outright to begin with for pinning me to the floor and—” 

Keith choked and drew a shaky breath. “Don’t even think that I’m not noticing that you all are only starting to treat me as a real person worthy of respect now that I’m not in your clutches anymore. I’m not stupid; I know how only getting respect from two people out of _billions_ will end.” 

“So be it. Continue with your desperate rescue attempt. None of you will escape, and we will speak again once you have been re-captured.” 

The communication channel cut, and Keith pulled up to avoid from colliding with one of the cruisers. He was shaking. Oh no, no, no—

One of Shiro’s arms, the flesh one, curled gently around his shoulders. “Keith, I’ve got you. You’re safe. And you’re my little brother, no matter what. I just… I don’t understand.” 

It _was_ safe. Shiro was here and not angry or disgusted or anything. His scent was warm and pleasant and full of confusion and worry _for_ Keith. He knew and he wasn’t— Keith could still explain. “I… I didn’t know. I think my dad was gonna tell me, but the accident. All it was safe for Thace to tell me was that she was a Blade and went to Earth to hide the Blue Lion from Zarkon longer and… then met my dad, I guess.” 

“Oh… my little brother is half alien, that’s actually pretty cool.” Shiro only brought out ‘little brother’ when Keith was really upset and they were alone, mostly because Keith hadn’t wanted even one rumor of favoritism to get around at the Garrison and had nixed telling other people (it had gotten out anyway, but whatever). “What’s really worrying me is that they keep implying you’re… uh, pregnant.” 

Keith took a deep breath. “I’m… normal for a Galra, down there. I’m also apparently not sterile; the doctors didn’t know what they were looking at, is all.” 

“Did Thace know that? Please tell me he used some kind of… space condom.” Shiro sounded a little upset, and very protective. It was sweet, but Keith didn’t want Shiro to go after Thace either.

Oh boy. “I’m not sure they have condoms? Thace only talked about injections and things, and he tried and failed to steal some. He was able to sneakily get some cream that reduces the chances though, and even if it was really dangerous to… not go all the way because everyone else would _smell_ if we hadn’t, he made sure to stop and ask if I was okay with the risk.” Keith was just gonna not mention that _he’d_ still thought he was sterile at the time. 

“Good. Then I don’t have to punch him in the dick.” Shiro said that lightly, but his scent had gotten sharp and… hard was the only word for it. They were coming up on Central Command, and look at that, _now_ they were drawing fire. 

“Please don’t.” Keith pulled Red into a quick loop, took out some fighters and then started a strafing run on the outer hull. They’d marked the closest point to that control room, and Shiro would have to drop out at just the right moment. “Good luck. I’m coming back for you; I _swear_.” 

“I know you will.” Shiro hugged him, _hard_ , and then backed off, bringing his visor down to a full helmet. “Kick some Galra ass for me.” 

“You know I will.” Keith triggered his own visor, braced himself, and then pressed the command to eject Shiro. A second later, Shiro was gone, and Keith activated the jaw-blade to dig a furrow in the hull. Explosions bloomed behind him. At a different part of the ship, Lance was doing the same thing in Blue, while Pidge was covering Hunk. They’d decided that the location of the cell was close enough to the outer hull, and that Yellow was strong enough, that Hunk was just going to ram, blast his way through a bulkhead, and then through the door to Allura’s cell. Keith hoped to _god_ that she hadn’t been moved. But right now he and Lance both needed to fall back to cover Hunk—

Something hit him, and Red went careening into the hull of the ship, alarms blaring. What the hell? Had an ion cannon hit—

The dreaded comm channel forced itself back open. Zarkon’s voice was almost …soft. Intimate in a way that made his skin crawl. “Yield, Paladin.” 

Hell no! (Why was Zarkon—?) “I refuse!” 

His coaxing got Red flying again, although he could feel the pull and strain. Red was damaged; shit. And he wasn’t facing a ship, just Zarkon, looking small through Red’s eyes, and yes, that sure was a Bayard in his hand. Zarkon was being conversational. “So talented, but so inexperienced. I could teach you so _much_ about yourself and your Lion if only you’d return to me.” 

“You don’t want to teach me; you want to _use_ me.” _Think_ , Keith. Zarkon had nearly disabled him from one blow of that Bayard; he couldn’t take another hit. How to end this fast? Keith punched it, calling on Red’s fire, and shooting with his tail laser at the same time. He’d never combined, but he wasn’t going to think this would be finished in one shot. There was an explosion, and he dove into it, not worried about the heat, and activated his jaw-blade again. Maybe the hits had been enough to weaken Zarkon. 

No, no they had not. Keith was brought up suddenly by tremendous resistance and there was Zarkon with some kind of purple shield. He was being pushed back, but the jaw-blade wasn’t going to get through that shield, no way. So Keith changed tactics and tried to drive Zarkon into the hull. It cracked, broke, and Zarkon disappeared. Had he—?

“So fierce, so _Galra_. Was it your plan to leave the Black Lion behind? An interesting strategy, although ultimately futile. I know the Altean ship and the Lion are hidden in the gas planet; they will be easy to retrieve once the rest have been subdued. The solar barrier will keep you all contained.” 

Zarkon burst back out of the hole, Bayard (a sword now) almost cutting through him. Keith got his jaw-blade around in time, and fired his tail laser. It didn’t make Zarkon back off for long. Zarkon was beating him _easily_ , while he was in his Lion! 

The usual channel crackled open. Lance. “Uh, Keith, little help here? Way to go radio silent by the way; Coran had to do… something to open the comm remotely.” 

“Really—“ Keith groaned as he barely held back another blow, “—busy over here.” 

“Against two fleets?” Pidge asked, “because we’re fighting against at least two whole fleets. Maybe two and a half.” 

Keith snarled, disengaged long enough to fire his mouth cannon, and Zarkon just shrugged it aside with the shield-form and— “—oh fuck!” 

The sword reformed, changed, extended, and suddenly he was caught and no amount of firing his thrusters was getting him anywhere. Zarkon came to stand right in front of him, and with a sickening lurch, Keith realized both channels were active. 

“Yield, _Keith_.” 

“You don’t get to use my name!” God _no_ , Zarkon was going to— The words came out almost as a scream, anger and disgust flaring up hot inside him and then freezing with a single, violent determination into a painfully sharp lance in his chest. “I refuse!” 

Red responded, and something _shifted_. Keith felt the power of it rushing through Red (him), and he snarled, firing— Some kind of huge cannon on his back (Red’s back), and he was free.

The blast only clipped the purple shield, sending Zarkon careening into the hull with a small explosion. There was a much bigger one as the beam hit one of the parts of the massive ship, went right on through, and hit one of the rings. _Whoa_. 

“ _Oh quiznak_ — Keith you have to get out of there _now_! That’s Zarkon, and he’s—“ Coran sounded nearly panicked. 

“I _know_ who he is and what he’s doing, Coran.” Zarkon was coming back at him fast, and Keith swore. He fired the new weapon again, but Zarkon dodged just in time. It tore more holes through Central Command. _Something_ fired back, and the new weapon changed his maneuverability enough that it clipped him. He fired again with a yell. 

No. No. Zarkon was forcing the Rites on him, and this time felt so _wrong_. Coran was asking something, but it was a buzz in the back of Keith’s consciousness. That rumbling chainsaw growl was building in his chest and Keith felt like he might be sick. 

“Now, you will yield to me willingly, as tradition demands.” Zarkon was saying that like a casual comment about the weather. “Becoming my consort solves all of your concerns quite simply. None will dare touch you, or disrespect you, and I can keep you securely by my side as my Red Paladin.”

“I will _never_ yield to you. _Never_.” The rumbling picked up, and Keith was sure everyone heard. “You’ve taken every choice away from me; this is _wrong_! I’ll die before I yield to you!” 

“So be it. You will get your wished-for death.” 

Keith fired again, not expecting much, and Zarkon dodged— But then got forced back into the path of the beam and sent into, _through_ part of Central Command. The Green Lion materialized out of cloaking, Pidge’s voice sounding tired. “Thought you could use the help. You…okay?” 

No, no he was _not_ okay, and there was no way Zarkon was dead. Somehow, Keith knew it. “I”ll live.” His voice sounded weak, and Red was barely responding. He wasn’t going to be much use for any kind of fighting until Red had a chance to self-repair. 

But the solar barrier was still up, and no word from Shiro, or—

“Princess acquired! She was not in another castle after all,” Hunk crowed, and then groaned. “But that sure as hell wasn’t as easy as it sounded. I’m… we’re not doing too hot. Please tell me we can hightail it out of here?” 

“No can do,” Lance said, “Barrier’s still up and… uh, I think it’s three fleets now.” 

“Three and a half,” Pidge shot back tiredly. 

“Shiro—“ Keith made his decision. He was going in there. His battle with Zarkon had brought him conveniently close to Shiro’s entry point. He could spot it with Red’s sensor array. “Lance, Hunk, Red’s damaged bad. I’m going in after Shiro; _don’t let my Lion get captured_. Pidge, what’s the absolute max time on your cloaking? I’m gonna need some help getting both of us away.”

“If I shut down all her other systems, and remain perfectly stationary, Green can remain cloaked for ten minutes. I’ve been tweaking the system in between working on the minions. And I’m going in with you.” Pidge sounded so determined, and Keith didn’t have the energy

“Two things,” Lance said shrilly, “who decided you’re in charge? And what if the Balmera was a fluke? Actually three things! Are we sure you two going in without backup is okay? I mean, we already _know_ what they want to do to Keith.” 

“I’m not in charge, Shiro is. And…” Fuck. Keith didn’t want to do this. “I’m half-Galra, that’s… that’s why _everything_. Pidge, I’m not waiting for you to catch up, so get yourself down here if you’re coming.” 

Keith wasn’t waiting any longer, exiting Red and reaching out to tell the Lion to start repairs. Lance and Hunk both expressed surprise (and in the background of Hunk’s comm, Keith heard Allura groan), but it was Coran’s words that made the biggest impact. “I’m proud of you for not hiding what you are. Being half-Galra is nothing to be ashamed of, Keith.” 

“I— Thanks, Coran.” Keith was pulling himself inside the ship, skin already crawling. If something went wrong—

Something appeared on his visor. A file sent, and with a thought Keith opened it. It was video, and Keith was confused that it hadn’t been sent through the comms for a split second. Then he realized it would be harder for the Galra to crack and realize Thace was still alive. 

“I won’t stop you, but don’t make me come in there after you.” Thace’s voice and expression were concerned but almost proud, and something about it made Keith’s breath catch. 

“I’m coming back; I promise.” It would read as saying something to Coran if someone was listening, but he figured Thace knew what the real meaning was. 

He was coming back. Keith _had_ to think that.

* * *

Pidge was right behind him, it turned out. She gave him a single nod that promised talks later, but it was more important to be fast. They had ten minutes, and Shiro to find. It was a mutual decision to make a break for the control room and hope they found Shiro on the way. 

They found bodies in the last corridor. Several sentries, and a few flesh and blood Galra. The control room was right through that doorway there—

It was the lady leader of the druids, standing over Shiro. He was hurt, a nasty glowing wound on his side, and another long, bloody score through his chest-plate, but he was still alive, and aimed a clumsy swipe with his arm at the lady leader’s robes. He missed, and she cackled. “You are not as valuable to Zarkon as the Red Paladin, but I’m _pleased_ to continue my work on you, Champion. Soon, we will have all of you to bend to our Emperor’s will.”

Something purple and crackly and _wrong_ started forming in front of her hand, aimed at Shiro. _No_. Keith looked at Pidge, she nodded and pulled out her Bayard. Keith pulled out his. 

Three, two, one—

He did _not_ want to get close to her, and to his surprise, a gun formed instead of a sword. She shrieked when he shot her (probably missing anything vital), and Pidge’s grapple wrapped around her and sent her swinging into the far wall. The woman slumped, apparently unconscious, just as a bolt from an energy rifle sizzled past him. Keith fired back, hitting one of the soldiers coming down the hall towards them. Shit. 

“I’ve got it,” Pidge yelled, “you get that shield down!” 

Thace had been right; the codes hadn’t been changed. Keith yanked the lever down with relish, relieved to see the barrier deactivate on the screen. But as he did, he realized that there was a big problem. It would only take one soldier or sentry to put that lever back into place. “Hey Pidge, switch with me! We need to disable this panel or we won’t have time to regroup.” 

“Roger!” 

They darted past each other, and Keith was relieved to see that his Bayard was back to his usual sword. He’d have to investigate the switching later. It was mostly sentries, and Keith was good at taking care of them. Problem was, they had less than five minutes now, and who knew how long it’d take them to get back. 

“Pidge, how’s it going? Can we just blow it up?” 

“I think there’s a failsafe that’ll reactivate the barrier if the console is destroyed.” 

They both swore together, and then Keith swore for an entirely different reason. Korvulk had just rounded the corner, carrying a huge mace. Explained why he’d been using the sword more like a bludgeon. 

And Keith _froze_. It wasn’t fear, it was— Keith didn’t know what it was, but Korvulk was the only other one that respected him and the thought of attacking him was…not good. 

“I thought you might be here, when I saw the barrier had gone down,” Korvulk wasn’t attacking, but was frowning at Keith. “Are you determined to return to fighting the Empire?” 

“ _Yes_. I—“ Keith took a breath. He couldn’t look at Korvulk. “Thank you. I— It means a lot, everything you’ve done. You and Thace were the only ones that showed me any kind of respect.” 

Korvulk sighed, heavily. “But you fear what will happen if you remain.” 

Keith nodded, suddenly very uncomfortable with the fact that that all was entirely true. Thace was a rebel, but _this_ was a loyal soldier of the Empire. “I know what will happen. The Emperor tried to force the Rites on me, took away _every_ choice. I—“ 

He hissed in a breath. “The traditions… The bits of history I’ve learned— Those things are _good_ , but the rest is so rotten. The Emperor is a monster! And everyone is following his example.” 

Korvulk’s scent went dark and oily, but he waited patiently until Keith was done talking. “What he has done flies in the face of everything the Rites of Courtship stand for. It’s a perversion, like so many things have become. I will not force you to remain here, but I will ask that you continue to learn about your true heritage.” 

It made Keith _bristle_ , “fine for you to say. I’ll probably be too busy fighting and trying not to die, for the good of the universe! If you really do think the Empire is a perversion of its former self, who don’t you _do_ anything about it? Hypocrite!” 

“I see.” Korvulk looked at Keith for a long moment. “You are right to accuse me of inaction. It’s unbefitting of a Galra of my status and perhaps I needed the reminder. Take this; I had planned to give it to you anyway, but now it’s even more vital.” 

His grin was crooked and full of very sharp teeth. “I may not be taking that pleasant retirement after all.” 

Then he was gone, picking up the druid leader lady as he went, and Keith was holding onto some kind of storage device. Had… Keith just been the straw that broke the camel’s back? Whatever, they had two minutes left, and it would be one hell of a challenge. 

“Pidge!” Keith skidded back into the room, to find Pidge with the whole control panel taken apart. Shiro was sitting and holding his side, breathing in sharp, pained pants. 

“Well, reprogramming in a few minutes was a bust, but I think it’ll take them quite a while to put it back together!” Pidge said that cheerfully, and then touched her Bayard to another bit of circuitry, which sparked with electricity until it started smoking. 

“We’re out of time; it’ll have to be enough.” Keith knelt down to hoist Shiro’s arm over his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, Shiro.” 

Shiro huffed something that might have been a laugh. “You do. Who were you talking to?” 

“Later; we’ve got to hurry.” Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to think about Korvulk right now. 

“Holy hell, we do. I lost track of time; sorry!” Pidge was already jogging ahead, taking point. 

It was obviously painful for Shiro, but he gritted his teeth and did admirably in keeping up, and luckily, they encountered no resistance, and only a patrol to dodge. The Green Lion was still visible when they got out, but other than some fighters angling closer, it was unmolested. _Something_ had gone right today. 

And everything else had gone wrong. Red was caught in a tractor beam, Blue was beset by three cruisers, and Yellow was swarmed by fighters. Keith swore from where he was sitting on the floor of the cockpit and holding Shiro against his chest. Shiro was breathing heavily from the exertion and looking way too pale. 

Pidge yelled a battle cry and dove into the battle, aiming for the ship that was trying to capture Red. She got hits in, but the fighters arrived and necessitated dodging before the ship could be debilitated. 

Lance whooped tiredly. “About time you got here. And the barrier went down! Now, _please_ tell me you can get to your Lions and we can go Voltron on these guys’ asses?” 

“How can we, when … we’ve been betrayed by one of our own?” Allura? Oh no, _Allura_. She sounded pained, in every meaning of the word. “I’m sorry everyone. I had no idea Keith was Galra.” 

“What do you mean, betrayed? Keith was helping me rescue Shiro.” Pidge narrowed her eyes at the screen, but evading another run of fighters took her attention. “But the answer is still no Voltron, Lance. Shiro’s hurt bad.” 

“So we’ve got to fight our way out. Why does _nothing_ go right?” But even as he complained, Hunk rammed another ship, and the explosion took out some of the fighters harrying him. 

Pidge returned to trying to attack the ship with the tractor beam. “Keith, we could use another Lion. Can you get to Red and actually fight?” 

“If we can get that tractor beam off, I can get to Red.” Keith didn’t want to leave Shiro, but he understood the need. “I… don’t know about Red being able to fight. The damage was bad.” 

But he stood, carefully setting Shiro down. “Take out that ship and get me close; I’ll try.” 

Things weren’t looking good. They were _really_ far from the planet where the Castle was still hiding, and surrounded by cruisers. Keith thought three and a half was a little low. Maybe as many as four and a half fleets. They might end up captured— Now, he couldn’t think negatively. They were gonna do this. 

Somehow.


	16. The Retreat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Throk trying to outdo himself on the skeevy asshole front. Also injuries galore. This chapter marks the end of the first arc (Keith's captivity), so next chapter will begin the next arc (consequences).

The battle was pitched, and they were entirely overwhelmed. And Red’s predicament meant they were tied down to the area. But finally, they got the cruiser pulling in Red damaged enough to disengage the tractor beam. Keith took a dive out of the belly hatch on Green, and instantly regretted it. He was tiny and virtually defenseless like this, and it was only careful maneuvering with his thrusters that could carry him safely to Red. 

He was getting close when an approaching fighter got hit by one of the lions. Too late, Keith realized that the shrapnel from the explosion was going to—

He wasn’t sure where it hit, but _everything_ hurt. He could hear the others yelling his name, but it felt distant and he just… he needed Red. He _needed_ Red—

The next thing Keith knew, he was _in_ Red. Keith took a gasping breath, then another, and stared at the blood on the outside of his armor uncomprehending for a moment. The shrapnel, right. Red was concerned, protective, but hurting as much as he was. Keith grit his teeth and got to the controls. 

“Keith!” 

“I’m alive.” Keith wasn’t even going to go with fine. He wasn’t. His upper arm was leaking blood through a gash in the under armor. The armor on his chest was melted and misshapen, and breathing _hurt_ , but didn’t it appear to be pierced. There were cracks on his faceplate, but not all the way through. He probably should be dead, that close to an explosion in space. He probably should be dead, seal of his armor broken, and probably rapid decompression as a result. He wasn’t dead. “Thanks to Red.” 

Dull warning alarms caught his attention but breathing was more of a concern. With effort, and a whine of pain, Keith got his chest armor off. And then his helmet, because the cracks were interfering with his vision. It was gonna make communicating harder, but now he could breathe, and that meant he could fight. 

“What did I miss?” 

“You sound kinda distant; what happened?” Hunk there, and he heard Allura say something, but not what. 

“Helmet got all cracked up, but my head seems okay. I just couldn’t see through it anymore.” Keith checked systems. Mouth cannon at quarter power, tail laser fine, he _could_ probably set things on fire, but his thrusters and servos were not in good condition. He was maybe at half maneuverability and two thirds speed. Really not great. But life support and sensors were fine, so there was that. 

The others filled him in. The Castle had come to the rescue, but they were still surrounded and the Castle was a big, less-maneuverable-than-the-Lions target. They needed enough space to get to the Castle without drawing too much fire on it, and then to wormhole. And Shiro was currently barely conscious, so no Voltron. 

Any option was terribly risky. “Coran, can the Castle outrun them, once we’re on board?” 

Coran’s voice held no cheer. “Well, our remote combat drones are operational, and we’ve got one going right now. If you lot can get on board, we can get two or three more perhaps, and that will keep them back. But with so many ships, some will get through the wormhole after us.” 

Pidge sounded like she was talking through gritted teeth. “At this point, even a single fleet is better than four and a half.” 

“Fuck Throk, just. Fuck him,” Keith said with fervor, because he knew exactly what the half a fleet was. 

“Who?” Lance asked. 

“Asshole, sore loser, and a bastard.” Keith debated saying more, but all the sudden he had an urge to make sure his friends _knew_ and hated Throk too. “Tried to rape me twice, gave me a concussion, threatened more of the same, was a little cheat that flaunted the rules of the Rites, and only got punished when he broke into an officer’s quarters and insulted another Commander. Lost half his fleet. But at least Trugg is gone, or there’d be another whole fleet and a half.” 

“Oh yeah, fuck him, definitely,” Hunk said with full sincerity, “but knowing that makes the numbers gel so much better. And yeah, I mean if we know which ships to target, I’d be all on board with going after them. I don’t know how that helps us get out of here, really.” 

“He was also charged with personally capturing all the Lions, or being turned over for druid experiments.” Thace’s voice on the comms, and something in Keith wanted to cry out for him, go to him and just— Keith could only smell blood and melted armor and his own pain, really. He wanted Thace’s scent so _desperately_. 

“When we aren’t in the middle of battle, I simply must ask about some of your Earthling expressions, because the ‘fuck him’ one must not have translated properly,” Coran was musing, but changed tracks, “but in the meantime, I wonder if we couldn’t use that desperation to our advantage.” 

Thace’s tone was grim satisfaction. “If one of the other commanders can claim credit for capturing even one Lion, he will be punished, even if he should capture the rest. It will make him reckless.” 

Lance laughed, “And jealous! Do you think he’d get in the way of the others?” 

“And I know how to piss him off.” Keith knew it was probably reckless on his part, but if they could cause some chaos, they might get away. “What’s the frequency the fleet usually uses for intership communications? And Hunk, get yourself to the Castle with Allura.” 

He got it, opened a channel, and was instantly blasted with chatter. Some trying to coordinate, some sniping at each other. Someone claiming to be on Throk’s fleet was warning someone called Arix away from the Yellow Lion. Keith grinned, knowing it was the mean kind that showed off all his teeth. 

“Hailing Throk. This is the Red Paladin, weakling. I’ve been listening to the chatter and I didn’t think you could get more pathetic than trying to break into an officer’s quarters, but you _have_. I’m satisfied that whatever happens here, you’ll be going to the druids, asshole. With all the commanders here, you’ll _never_ be able to capture all the Lions yourself. If you can capture any at all!” 

That familiar, _awful_ voice hissed over the comms. “ _You_. When I have you in my clutches, I will slice you open, and drive my fist into your womb and make you _watch_ as I crush your eggs one by one. Then once I’ve taken my pleasure from you, made you trill like the whore you are, I’ll send you to the Imperial Bordellos, where inferior half-breeds like you _belong_.”

The first bit made Keith shudder in crawling disgust and press a hand to his stomach, but then Keith actually laughed, because it wasn’t so threatening now that he was in Red and had his friends around him. “Take your pleasure? I know where I shot you; you _can’t_ anymore. How does it feel to be so impotent? All talk and no _action_. Anyone who’s beaten to the goal by you deserves to be _mocked_ , that’s how pathetic you are.” 

There was no response, but several ships, most shoved right up in front of the grouping around them, started firing on Red with wild abandon. Keith dived, letting the chatter keep going, and was pleased when his dive meant one of the ion cannons hit one of the cruisers on the other side of the circle. Friendly fire, hell yeah. 

There was an enraged message from somebody, directed towards Throk, and then Korvulk’s voice. “It’s time to purge the Empire of the filth that’s risen to the top. Who will share this hunt of the honor-less with me?”

Someone else agreed, and then suddenly a whole group of ships abruptly changed position and started firing on Throk’s ships. Then a few more. Keith wasn’t blind, but it was Pidge who was able to crow about it first. “Look! Infighting opened a path! Go, go, go!” 

They went, and other ships turned to give chase or fire on them, but the Yellow Lion had already docked, and the rest of them were racing along with the Castle, providing as much covering fire for the retreat as they could. Keith saw a wormhole open, just as he and Pidge loaded on. The docking bay doors weren’t quite closed yet but it didn’t matter. They were going through the wormhole. Even if ships followed, they could take them. They were home free. 

Something awful and terrible shot out from Central Command, aimed for them. Keith prayed that they’d get through before it hit them. 

Everything went to hell, as some kind of disturbance tore Red and Green out of the docking bay and into the raging, discolored wormhole.


	17. The Separation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was tempted to send Keith to the planet he went to in canon, but decided he needed a break. Here's another chapter, and thank you to all the commenters and people who left kudos!

Keith must have blacked out from the force of the jostling. He woke up with a start as Red crashed into then through… something. Red wasn’t responding, and everything hurt, but the first impact slowed his momentum enough that he tapped more lightly against the next thing, if scattering whatever it was into smaller pieces (probably) counted as more lightly. Eventually Red settled against something and Keith breathed a sigh of relief. 

Still no response, and he had no idea if there was any atmosphere out there. It was a risk, but he couldn’t receive messages, couldn’t see. Keith shoved the damaged helmet back on, and then dug around in back. Coran had said once that there was first aid, and patching material for damaged armor in each Lion. Keith just had to find it. 

And of course, once he did, he had no idea what was what, or even which compartment in the thing was first aid, or patching. He really needed to learn to read Altean because Coran wasn’t always around to answer questions and without an active connection with Red, Keith didn’t even have a guess. Keith poked at one package, and decided that it was a bandage. He stretched out the torn sleeve and popped it on. Keith guessed the red and black stuff was patching material, and slapped it on over the sleeve. To his relief, it bubbled and made a seal. Yes. Good. 

In that compartment, there was a tube of something that proved to be clear, and he spread that on the cracks in the helmet. It didn’t quite remove the visual difficulties, but it did seal up fine after some steaming. 

He struggled to get the emergency release open, and a flash of pain nearly dropped him. His ribs— He’d broken at least one, maybe even badly. He had to find the others, sooner rather than later. If he ended up with a punctured lung, he could drown in his own blood. But it was open, and nope, no atmosphere, or gravity either. All he saw was junk. Keith made sure his Bayard was with him, and his knife was tucked safely away and hidden at the small of his back like it usually was. 

Keith took a deep breath, _regretted it_ , and pushed off. His thrusters were gone, off with the damaged chest armor, so he had to do careful calculations, because he wanted to get _back_ to Red once he figured out where he was. 

After who knows how long, picking a slow, careful path through the trash he found something, or rather, something found _him_. Keith startled when he saw the shadows in the light, floating above him, and they turned out to be some kind of round, fluffy … space bugs? They didn’t prove dangerous, and the way they lit up and flashed intrigued him. Some of it almost looked like code. Maybe they were sentient? Keith had to try. “Hey, I need to get a message to someone. A message, you know?” 

When they didn’t respond right away, he tried opening and closing his hand in an imitation of the pattern one had been flashing. And as one, the group of them suddenly started floating away. Without anything else to do, Keith followed. 

He was about to give up when he saw it. Green! That meant Pidge and Shiro were here. Pidge was dragging _something_ towards her Lion, which had put the particle barrier up. He hadn’t even thought to try the comms, and he tried now. “Pidge, do you read me?” 

Her head whipped around. “Keith?! Where— Oh. I see you. You look like _hell_.” 

“How’s Shiro?” Keith pushed off hard, but didn’t get much speed, so he floated towards her at a crawl. 

“He’s… not good. Alive, and conscious for the most part, but the glowing wound is spreading somehow? And the bandages in the first aid kit did not stop the bleeding on the other one.” Pidge shifted her burden, and reached out, snagging Keith’s hand. “So I’ve been trying to make an array that’ll boost Green’s signal, so the Castle can pick it up better.” 

“Good idea.” Keith felt a strain in his upper arm and tried to ignore it. “Have I told you that you’re a genius?” 

Pidge shrugged, and activated her thrusters. “Nah, but I know you know, you know?” 

“There were too many ‘knows’ in that sentence.” But Keith was distracted by… somethings. Bits of scrap in vaguely people shapes, and was one supposed to be him? “What.” 

“Before I got my idea I got bored! And brainstorming works so much better with more than one person, but the only other person here at the time wasn’t very talkative. I improvised!” They were at the Green Lion now, and Pidge dropped her other burden to help Keith get up to the Lion’s mouth. Keith tried not to vibrate out of his armor in worry on the way up. 

Shiro was laid out in the bay in the body of the Lion, and Pidge said something about that section retaining pressure and oxygen even when the cockpit was opening and closing. Shiro managed to get up on one elbow when they came in. “Keith. You’re okay.” 

He looked really pale and glassy eyed and— “Shiro! You’re not.” 

Keith moved too fast and hissed as his broken rib(s?) complained, but he made it to Shiro’s side and pulled his helmet off. Shiro frowned vaguely and managed to lever himself into a sitting position. “Neither are you, apparently.” 

Staring up at Shiro, looking so weak, smelling blood and pain and something unpleasant that screamed sick to his brain, Keith was hit with a sudden strong urge to kiss Shiro. He actually leaned into the urge for a second before realizing and pulling back with a groan. “Why. Why now. Dammit.” 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. “Anything we should know, Keith? ‘cause it looked like you were gonna get all smoochy and—“ 

“It’s not—“ Keith grimaced. “You know ‘kiss it better’? It’s a literal thing for Galra, I guess. Hell, I’ve experienced now.” 

Shiro managed a weak smile. “Okay, but it didn’t look like you were going for that kind of kiss.” 

Keith rolled his eyes. “You _know_ how I react to kissing, Shiro. I complained about it to you enough times. I just didn’t know I had the, uh, kiss it better urge, until now.” 

“Really. That’s a real thing that— But we saw him kiss you.” Pidge didn’t look convinced. 

Shiro waved a hand tiredly. “Keith’s response is real enough; I trust him. Validity of kissing making things better is still unproven though.” 

Jerk was grinning. But Keith was grinning back, and shrugged. “Well, lock is a real thing too, and kissing is like the emergency break for sexy feelings. Feels nice, just, super anti-sexy.” 

Pidge snorted. “You’re weird, Keith. But this is actually like, normal Keith level oddness, so I guess you’re not really being weird _er_. Just weird. So, is all of your weirdness Galra-weirdness, or is it also Keith-weirdness?” 

“I’m still working that out.” Kissing was probably out, because Shiro _did_ process kissing as sexy, and ew, no. But Keith still sat next to Shiro, and got his uninjured arm around his brother’s shoulders. Shiro leaned against him tiredly. It felt nice to be there, supporting him. Quiet would be good, but Keith also kind of wanted to share. “My super acute nose is Galra weirdness, though. It’s nice to know why I can smell things no one else can at last. The weird skin thing I have? Also a Galra thing. And it’s actually kind of interesting? I’ll have to show you later.” 

Pidge pouted. “Okay, no you don’t get to tease about cool things and then not give up the goods. What weird skin thing?” 

Keith found himself blushing. “It turns out, I was supposed to have a pouch. It wasn’t fully formed, so it was just the layer of loose skin, but the treatments finished forming things. So yeah, pouch.” 

“Wait.” Shiro was smiling, looking more present, if not any better. “So Galra are purple space kangaroos?” 

It made Keith laugh, because he’d thought the same things, but Pidge was looking thoughtful. “That… okay. Hmm. Alright, I don’t want to assume, so! Preferred pronouns? The Galra were all using they/them when talking about you, I noticed. Both the commander and the ship to ship chatter.” 

Uh, well, Keith hadn’t asked that. “He/him in English, definitely. I think the other thing is a translator issue, maybe? Galra have four different sexes, and at least that many different pronouns that I’ve picked up on. The translators have used they/them for at least two separate ones.”

“Huh. That’s actually fascinating. It might explain the weird problems I have translating Galran via program sometimes.” Pidge’s look was the essence of curious cat. “So womb and eggs?” 

Dammit. “They are a thing, yeah.” 

Pidge winced. “So… uh, you’re really pregnant?” 

One of Shiro’s hands found his. It helped. “I don’t know. We did what we could to… not, but the foolproof method was kinda blocked. I guess, traditionally, the Rites were scheduled to end at the right time so that conception would happen, which is why every Galra and their cousin is making the assumption.” 

“Right.” Pidge crossed her arms and then nodded once. “Okay, so Thace really helped us out there with his info, and maybe he could be an attempt to put a spy with us, but he also helped you stay relatively safe so… Do you really like him?” 

“You really ask the hard questions, don’t you?” Keith muttered. He didn’t want to sound like he had a crush or Stockholm’s or whatever, but lying would be counterproductive. It probably wasn’t good to say how much he missed Thace right now. His scent, just knowing he was a comm activation away… Yeah, definitely not. So Keith would play it safe.

“It’s complicated. But I believe him. There’s a couple things that match up that the Empire can’t have known about, unless they were planning this since before I was even _born_. I respect him, I’d fight with him, and hell, I’d put myself in the way to save his life. He _did_ save mine. We don’t really know each other well enough to call each other friends, but I didn’t really know you guys at the beginning either. I… uh, there’s supposed to be a bond thing, and so far, it told me when he was hiding his actual emotions from others; he can control his scent _really_ well, because I can usually smell it when people are lying? And I can’t with him, but I know anyway. And it also apparently jump-starts desire—“

Keith trailed off with a cough, wanting to hide his face. “But yeah, even before that, he’s… hot. So, probably?” 

Pidge had a cheshire grin. “Trust me, we knew those last two things.” She reached over and patted his shoulder. “But don’t worry, I’ll only tease you about being a furry a little bit. Anyway I’ve got some building to do so they can find us, so I’ll leave you two to your brotherly bonding or whatever.” 

She flitted away, and he and Shiro sat in silence for a bit. Then Shiro commented, out of the blue. “I’m still giving him a shovel talk.” 

Keith snorted. “That’s what big brothers are for, right?”

* * *

Time passed. Keith dozed. Red reached out at some point, and Keith reached back. Shortly later, Pidge passed on that Red had somehow showed up beside Green and hey, it fixed the problem of having to find a way _back_. 

But Shiro was getting worse (Keith was hurting worse). He was paler, breathing more unevenly, and the bandaged wound on his side was… spreading? The glow was spreading, at least. Also the blood smell wasn’t getting that old scent to it. It was still _fresh_ fresh. 

“Shiro, are you okay?” 

“‘m fine.” But Shiro turned to look at him. “I heard what you did, with the others. In case I don’t make it—“

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” hissed Keith, heart in his throat. 

“No, listen. If I’m ever out of commission, I want you to lead Voltron.” Shiro held up a hand. “I know you want to protest. I know you don’t _see_ it in yourself, and after this, it’ll be a while before the others can get used to you being part Galra, but you’ve got what it takes.” 

“Shiro, I—“ But Keith knew better than to argue, and Shiro was looking really bad. Keith felt the urge again. “Fine. I’ll… fine. But you’re not going to die on me, not today. Even if I have to kiss you to do it.” 

Shiro huffed a weak laugh. “If you really wanna kiss it better, go for it.” 

Keith bit his lip. The big problem was probably the _bleeding_ and he knew it’d help infection and encourage general healing, but he didn’t know if it would encourage clotting. He wasn’t sure he wanted to kiss Shiro on the mouth either, given everything, even if it’d probably soothe the tension out of him. So he kissed Shiro on the scar, because as useless as it probably was, he still felt the urge. “I’m holding it in reserve, but if you get much paler, I’m gonna have to try _something_.” 

“Oh.” Shiro was looking at him, but not _seeing_ him. Then he blinked, slowly. “Alright, I think kissing it better is confirmed. I just remembered… The one on my face, it was all infected, and Ulaz kissing and, uh, licking me there, telling me it would help the healing.” 

Keith looked at the bloody, wet bandages—

Pidge burst into the bay. “Guys, guys! It worked! The Castle is here.” 

Thank god. Keith got up, kissed the top of Shiro’s head. “Well, we won’t have to resort to operation kiss it better after all. I’ll get to Red so we can get settled.” 

Shiro smiled at him, and it was such a precious smile. They’d get Shiro in a pod, and he’d be all right. Keith was going to see Thace again, and _he’d_ finally feel okay (and maybe after that a pod for him too). Everything was going to be _fine_.


	18. The Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, thank you guys for the comments and kudos!
> 
> A note on Allura: while Keith was desperately trying to keep himself safe, Allura was left directly in the clutches of Zarkon, Haggar, and the Druids. And their goal was to rip apart any trust and care Allura had for him (with the intent of using her subsequent rejection to spur Keith to be more loyal to the Empire). They preyed on each and every one of Allura's Galra-related traumas, so... she's got a lot of recovery to do. Keith doesn't know the details, and so is lacking some perspective and context that would help her reactions make more sense.

Keith barely had a look at Allura before shackles clicked in place around his wrists. Coran gave him the saddest look, mouthing a silent apology. Pidge, helping Shiro out of the Green Lion, protested, but Allura was standing rigid, tears streaked down her face, and scent reeking of confusion and hurt and betrayal. 

“I can’t believe it. You brought one of _them_ on board. You _are_ one of them! I— Why didn’t you _fight_ , Keith? How long have you been lying to us? How can we even begin to trust you?” Allura sniffed away more tears and gestured to Coran, “Take him to the holding cell down below.”

How could Keith respond to that? He knew that no answer would sound like anything but an excuse. She’d seen him in Galra armor, bowing to Zarkon, and heard the lies that weren’t entirely lies coming out of his mouth. And Keith was so _tired_. Where was Thace? Was he even alive? Keith bowed his head and let Coran lead him away. 

Once they were in an elevator and safe from being overheard, Coran clapped a hand down on Keith’s shoulder, uninjured side. “Cheer up! I know it looks bad right now, but Zarkon was always an excellent strategist. I’m not surprised in the least that he aimed to undermine your bond of trust with Allura.” 

An awkward silence settled as the elevator descended, and then Coran cleared his throat. “But is it true that you don’t feel trusted here?”

Keith froze. How— Why _wouldn’t_ Zarkon have access to everybody’s communications and make use of that? Shit. “That was a lie. Only Commanders and higher could authorize the treatments for the scarring, and we had to convince her that I wasn’t going to try to escape. Not that it matters now. Allura won’t ever—“

“Now, don’t think that! It’s true that things will be turbulent for a while, but Allura _does_ know you, and she does need to learn what you just have, about not every Galra being terrible.” 

Coran paused, twirled his mustache in a way Keith was pretty sure said discomfort, and then started up again, “You must understand that for Allura, and indeed myself, Zarkon’s attack wasn’t just aggression but the deepest of betrayals. King Alfor and Zarkon were close friends, even before Voltron. She grew up with Galra in her life, and I dare say that Zarkon was like a fond uncle, always sparing time for telling her stories or bringing exotic presents. And for her, that sudden betrayal happened only a few vargas before you all showed up to wake us from the cryopods. It isn’t quite fair to you but she needs time.”

Keith winced, not sure that all the time in the world would help. “I know.”

He shuffled along, feeling all his hurts and only vaguely aware of where they were headed. It was the chainsaw growl coming from somewhere other than his own chest that made Keith look up. “Thace!”

Keith ended up pressing himself against the transparent barrier, _desperate_ to be close. For scent, especially. Coran cleared his throat behind Keith, and Thace’s growl kicked up a notch. Thace leveled a glare at Coran, voice coming mostly in between breaks of the growl. “ _Why_ isn’t Keith in the infirmary right now? I can see the damage!”

“That’s… oh dear.” Coran was fidgeting behind Keith. “I’m afraid the Princess was a little hasty, and frazzled by recent events, but I assure you, I’ll return as soon as I can to get your injuries settled. There’s quite a lot _to_ be done, come to think of it. Adjustments in the kitchen, to the lighting. I should check to see if we have any Galra-sized clothing left in storage.”

“Coran, stop.” Keith just… the excuses were grating. “We get it; your hands are tied. Just put me in and get out. We’ll take care of it ourselves.”

“I really am terribly sorry about all this,” Coran said with an audible wince, as he took the Bayard and Keith’s knife, but then Keith was inside the barrier and Coran didn’t matter anymore.

Keith was only dimly aware of the shackles coming off. Thace’s scent was sharp and sour with stress and worry, topped off with oily anger, and Keith wanted nothing more than to drown in it. Keith went with that want, shivering as he wrapped his arms around Thace’s chest. There was a new sound coming from Thace’s chest that reminded Keith vaguely of a pigeon’s warbling, but more staticky and popping, and in response Keith’s chest resonated with… there was no other word for it than cooing.

In those first frantic moments, neither of them spoke, and clothes came off. Partly. The urge stopped when Keith became aware that the few tender bruises and cuts on Thace were all exposed. Keith’s own armor, what was left of it, was on the floor, and Thace kissed him fiercely. Keith opened for it, kissing back and pressing his tongue against Thace’s teeth. It left him overwhelmed with Thace (lingering soreness, but mostly stress, worry, care) but he was distracted by the need to kiss and run his tongue over a scrape along Thace’s cheekbone. 

Keith was the one that was warbling now, and Thace was responding with the coos. Then Thace started mouthing at a spot on Keith’s collarbone that Keith hadn’t even realized was sore and the noises flipped again.

How long they stayed like that, kissing and licking at each sore spot, in between breaks of returning to each other’s mouths, Keith wasn’t entirely sure but he felt… better. His ribs still ached, and his lacerated arm wasn’t much better, but the stress and tension and more minor pain was gone, from him and from Thace too. 

Keith had to laugh on realizing that. “Figures you’d finally relax when we were both prisoners.” 

“I’m finally free,” Thace whispered against Keith’s neck. “I failed my mission spectacularly, and there _will_ be repercussions, but no more lies. I can be myself, whoever that might be.”

“We can figure that out together,” Keith dared whisper back, finding the words resonating all too well. How much of what he’d thought he’d been was twisted up in trying to be something he wasn’t? How much did knowing he was part Galra change him? How much of him had always been Galra, all along? How much of him was just Keith? Hell if he knew.

* * *

They rested, sharing kisses every few minutes. Coran came back at some point with clothes, water, first aid supplies, and more apologies, but when Thace found out Keith wasn’t being taken to a pod, he snarled until Coran retreated. It wasn’t fair to Coran, not really, but Keith wasn’t feeling all that fairly treated either so he didn’t protest.

There was no way to know what was going on outside the cell, which was endlessly frustrating. It was, at least, much more well appointed than a Galra cell. There was a bench that pulled out into a bed (a little cramped with both of them), bathroom closet with a toilet and a roomy sink for washing up, and space to put the limited supplies they had. The clothes Coran had brought turned out to be Galran, but Thace had identified the style as ancient. Keith was annoyed that he didn’t even get his own clothes from home. They were his, damn it!

Keith didn’t bother with more than the loose pants, because Thace was still fussing over his ribs and arm. Keith let him, not willing to say out loud that he was worried over his painful breathing. Thace was probably just badly bruised (Allura had had what sounded like it might be a panicked response and had gone after Thace with a staff.) but Keith insisted on returning the favor.

That was how Pidge found them, and she coughed pointedly, adjusting her glasses. “Are Galra nudists or something? Because you two are undressed every time I see you. At least you aren’t in the middle of sex this time, which is much appreciated, but there’s still more skin, and fur, because I think that’s fur, than I was really interested in looking at.”

“We’re partially dressed,” Keith protested as he sat up and left off kissing one of Thace’s bruises. “Do you have any news?”

Pidge refused to look at them until they got dressed and then started fiddling with a control panel. “We just got a lock on a signal that we think is Lance and Hunk, and Shiro is recovering well in a pod. I’m modifying this so you guys can hear what’s sent through the Castle’s internal comms, and if you make a tone—“

Pidge paused to whistle, and closed the panel. “You’ll be able to turn on the receiver for about a dobash at a time to talk to us if you need to. Allura… I’ve never seen her so upset. She’s acting like you’re a spy and traitor or something. And some of the things she’s said she watched or overheard don’t really look good on you guys, but on the other hand, I’d bet that a lot of things Shiro had to do while he was a prisoner wouldn’t look good on him either. And we know Zarkon is a dick who’d try to manipulate people. So it’s a clusterfuck, and I’m withholding judgement for now, but I did have some questions for you. Thace, right? Do you have any information on prisoners?”

Thace leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. Only then did he look at Pidge. “I assume you’re asking about the other Earthlings that were captured with the Black Paladin? I don’t have any current knowledge on either of them.”

Pidge brightened up and pressed her hands against the barrier. “But you know who I was asking about and old knowledge is still a place to start.”

“Just be aware that my most recent information is from before the Black Paladin’s escape.” Thace sat up straighter. “The younger was considered able-bodied enough to operate machinery, and was requisitioned by a Lieutenant of Warlord Granveig. That sector has active rebellions, and the rebels make frequent raids on the slave barracks ships to replenish their numbers, resulting in high slave turnover. If the Earthling is still alive they are either still in that sector, or among the rebels.”

Pidge had pulled out her holoscreen and was taking furious notes. She asked a few questions about the time period and location before staring Thace down with an intense and eager expression. “What about my dad? The older one, Sam Holt.”

“His interrogation revealed he was a scientist of sufficient knowledge and experience to be useful to the Empire in that capacity. I sent a recommendation to the Commander holding him requesting his transport to a prison where other captive scientists are kept. I spent significant time undercover in the facility several years ago, and remain on neutral terms with the operator, opening that avenue to us. If he hasn’t changed his operations, the captives that put their intellect to use for the Empire are treated fairly well. Adequate food, rest, and medical care. It was the best option I had at the time.” Thace said it all without emotion, and then rattled off the coordinates for the facility.

Pdge fired more questions about the location of the prison, which Thace answered, and then adjusted her glasses. “So this Marmora guy named Ulaz freed Shiro, you’re telling me that you got my dad transferred to a relatively okay prison, and then some Warlord’s Lieutenant did everything but shove my brother into the arms of rebels. Is this Lieutenant also a Marmora guy, or girl, I guess?”

Thace nodded, but didn’t offer anything else. Pidge wasn’t deterred by the silence. “So, why help the humans? There’s billions of slaves out there. What made Shiro and my family stand out?”

It hit Keith out of nowhere, and he hissed in a sharp breath. “My mom. One of them is my mom, and had been to Earth before. And keeping the Galra away from Earth and the Blue Lion kept me safe.”

Thace frowned, but nodded. “That is part of the reason, yes. Shiro was also someone that brought others hope, even at the darkest points of his captivity. Keeping the Empire from discovering Earthlings’ resilience and will was another reason.”

“Speaking of moms and Galra,” Pidge began, and Keith was pretty sure she made the light glint threateningly off her glasses intentionally, “what _are_ you planning to do if Keith gets pregnant?”

Keith sputtered but Thace shut him up pretty effectively with a kiss on his cheek, then returned Pidge’s intimidating stare. “In this circumstance, away from the Empire, Keith would get to choose whether to continue brooding or to flush the eggs. If he chose the former, I would pouch-mother. I would probably need to retreat to a remote base or planet for the joeys’ safety, but it is a sacrifice I would make.”

“You would—“ Pidge lowered her finger and gave them both a bemused look. “Huh. I think I need to get a crash course on Galra reproduction because, what?”

“Galra have four sexes, remember?” Keith muttered, “It’s just really complicated.” 

“Males and carriers usually pouch-mother,” Thace said by way of explanation, “Females don’t produce milk without carrier hormone injections, and most switches can only carry and provide milk for one joey safely, two at the outside.” 

Pidge nodded seriously. “Okay, so kind of like seahorses. It makes sense…”

She trailed off in a way that made Keith sure she wanted to know more. He sighed. “I’m a switch, so I can do sperm and eggs, but only one at a time. And I guess if I conceived it’d make me a brood-mother. The word isn’t female-gendered in Galran like it is in English.” 

“Huh.” Pidge adjusted her glasses. “That’s way different from humans. It sounds like every Galra can be a mom, then, but what about dads?” 

“The sire, or father, is generally the male or switch that fertilizes the eggs. When that Galra goes on to be the pouch-mother, they can choose which they’d rather have their children call them. Generally, it’s considered best for a separate pouch-mother to be chosen; it results in a stronger and more flexible immune system and more genetic diversity.” Thace didn’t sound embarrassed, but his scent gave the impression that he was wishing someone else was present to explain. 

“Wait, does that mean Keith had three parents?” Pidge lit up, filled with interest. 

Keith turned to Thace because he’d wondered too. “I guess if my mom was a switch like me but…” 

The frown was the only answer Thace gave for a long moment. “You had a brood-mother and a pouch-mother. Your blade is from your brood-mother, and the scent you remember is probably your pouch-mother. I suspect you weren’t told because of the differences in how Earthlings reproduce. For their safety, I shouldn’t tell you anything more.” 

Keith wanted to ask, desperately, but instead just nodded. “I… hope I get to meet them someday.” 

“I think you will,” Thace said, “but right now, I’ve already told you more than I should. Our leader will need to be the one to decide if you can be told more.” 

Suddenly, Allura’s voice rang out through the room. “Pidge, come to the bridge please. We’re ready to wormhole to Lance and Hunk’s location.” 

Pidge frowned for a split second. “I’ll be back to ask you more about my family later. And Keith, I’ll try to get Allura to let you go into a pod; your breathing isn’t too great and you’re pale.” 

Keith appreciated the effort, even if he doubted Allura would allow it. She hadn’t even allowed Keith his own clothes. In fact he was surprised he still had the storage device that Korvulk— “Pidge, wait. Before you go, there’s something I want you to look at.” 

Pidge turned back around and came up to the barrier. “Yeah? What is it?” 

“When we were rescuing Shiro…” Keith fumbled the words and resorted to holding out the device, “Well, how I got it doesn’t really matter. I want you to make sure it isn’t a tracker or virus or has any sinister coded messages or anything. If it’s clean, I’d kind of like to know what’s on it, but maybe somebody else should go through even that first, so I’m not suspected more than I already am.” 

Pidge looked _delighted_ to take the device and cradled it close. “I’ll make sure it’s clean and vet what’s on it myself, but don’t think you’re off the hook on explaining where you got it.” 

“Korvulk gave it to me instead of trying to capture me.” At Pidge’s continued questioning look, Keith winced. “He’s one of the Commanders who, uh… pressed suit in the Rites. He threw me and Thace a feast and he’s really big on old traditions. He was furious about Zarkon trying to force Rites on me, and his fleet was the first to start firing on Throk’s and gave us the opening to escape.”

Thace sighed heavily at Pidge’s expression and the way she opened her mouth to speak. Then he cut her off. “And no, before you ask, he’s not a Blade.” 

Pidge was silent for a long moment. “Huh. Interesting. But as much as I want to take a look right now, I should get going to rescue Hunk and Lance.” 

Then she was off, and Keith settled back into Thace’s embrace. Aside from answering the unspoken question, Thace had been silent during the exchange, but his scent was bursting with pride and curiosity. Keith almost asked about it, but he was so worn out. Later then.


	19. The Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. Thanks for all the wonderful comments!
> 
> Fun facts:  
> \--So! Bonds~ Because of the biological basis, it's actually difficult for a Galra to form an entirely reciprocal bond with another species, and that has lead to a little bit of prejudice against Galra/non-galra relationships. But! Consort bonds transcend biology and start to involve quintessence, and so can be fully reciprocal and make up for the lack of hormones and pheromones for the Galra involved. (Which is to say Zarkon and Honerva had a full consort bond) But most Galra hybrids bond like Galra do, removing that difficulty as soon as the second generation.

Keith hadn’t expected much, but not long after, Coran came down with some kind of handheld scanner. Thace was determined to be well on the way to healing his bruises without intervention, but Keith needed a pod. He’d been right to worry about a punctured lung, even if it wasn’t nearly as serious as it could be. 

Being taken away from Thace _sucked_ , and everything in him screamed protest at it. Keith could smell Thace’s desperation and frustration too, before the barrier closed back down, and he barely held back from snarling at Coran. Being put into a pod, still shackled, hadn’t improved his mood. 

Waking up to _Lance_ outside the pod was unexpected, and Keith counted it a miracle that he didn’t do more than bare his teeth. Being a prisoner among his own friends (were they, anymore?) made him almost wish he hadn’t escaped. 

Keith couldn’t resist the dig as he struggled to stay upright, and collapsed gratefully into a chair. “You’re making them _right_ you know. They were bullshitting to manipulate me, but you’re making it true.” 

Lance was pouting, waving a hand in his face, but the words didn’t come out as snappy as Keith would have expected. “Don’t I know it, but Allura’s castle. Allura’s rules! And besides you going and what, falling in lust with one of them really doesn’t exactly encourage confidence. I thought you were better than that!” 

What could Keith say to that, when being apart from Thace was making him tense and uncomfortable? They were so fucked; how could they have left each other if Thace had gotten his way? But Lance was sitting a bowl of food goo down in front of him, and after Galra food goo, the bittersweet, almost floral smell to it turned his stomach. Keith turned his head away from it with a little groan.

“What? Too good for the Castle’s goo now that you’ve had Zarkon’s?” Lance sounded insulted, getting in his face again. 

Hunk’s smell, mixed with _meat_ , made him perk up, and then Hunk rounded the corner with a platter in hand. “Uh, actually… according to Coran, Galra have _really_ different dietary requirements than Alteans do. So we’ve kinda sorta been accidentally starving and maybe mildly poisoning Keith a lot? I am so _sorry_ , buddy. I didn’t know.” 

The meat smell made Keith feel better, and touched at the same time. He remembered the planet that Hunk had picked up the meat from, and how little they’d had. “I didn’t know either; it’s okay. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Hunk smelled proud and fond and… something that he always smelled like when he got to feed them and they enjoyed it. Keith suspected that Hunk really liked to take care of people. But Hunk was getting awfully close while Keith struggled to eat the meat with his hands shackled, and then suddenly crowed. “Ooh! You have cute little baby fangs! I never really looked before but you have them.”

And off Hunk went. He could be almost as bad as Pidge. “I mean, they’re not as big and intimidating as Galra chompers but you probably could do some rip-tearing with them. I’d always wondered why you did that thing where you show your teeth when you’re mad, because it’s not really a _thing_ thing, but it totally is for you, isn’t it? It’s all ‘back off or I will bite you’ and wow, Keith, buddy, you have to promise me no biting.” 

“I wouldn’t—“ 

Lance cut them both off. “Way off the important topic, guys! We’ve gotta figure out how to wean Keith off his bad news boyfriend.” 

“ _Wean_ me?” Keith didn’t like the sound of that. 

“Well, yeah.” Lance tried to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, not faltering as Keith shook him off. “Look, I get that he’s addictive or something, or maybe you just really really need to get off sometimes. And I wanna be the first to say that’s okay.” 

“Lance, no.” Hunk moaned that out, head in hands. 

“You’ll both thank me for this later!” Lance was waving his hands as he talked. “And I get that Pidge is out, and Shiro’s out on account of the brother thing, but me and Hunk talked about things and agreed that we could take one for the team. Get you some loving to help you out while we boot him from the ship, and once everything’s on an even keel for you again—“ 

“Lance, _no_. We did not— Why are you volunteering me?” Hunk flailed his hands around, smelling more of exasperation than stress. “Keith is very much not my type, for one, and he’s Galra married, and I don’t think Thace is a bad guy, either?” 

“That’s—“ Lance waved his hands around. “That’s not the point! Because, yeah, he’s not a bad guy, for a _Galra_ , and he helped Keith. I respect that, so I’m saying let him off somewhere quiet and out of the way. Allura would be way more comfortable, and I’m pretty sure he would be too? I mean, we’re at war with his own guys. We’ll probably go up against friends of his or whatever, and what if—“ 

“Can it, Lance!” Keith had had _enough._ “What part of rebels don’t you understand? Thace is fighting against the Empire. He has been for who even knows how long. _That’s_ not the problem; admit it. The problem is _you’re_ not comfortable with a Galra on board. What’s next, kicking me off too?” 

Lance got in his face, like Lance always did. “Why would we kick you off? If we haven’t kicked you off already for being a jerk, we wouldn’t kick you off for sleeping with the enemy. Which is, by the way, an epically bad decision, and I get that you didn’t have a choice _then_ but…” 

“I’m Galra, Lance, or did you forget.” Keith felt queasy, anxious and too tense and—

Well, at least Lance backed off. “You’re like… only a little bit Galra. You don’t even look Galra! You’re just… Keith. Hot headed jerk with really bad people skills and way too smug about your piloting skills, Keith. My _friend_ , Keith. I’m trying to save you from your bad decisions!” 

“No, that’s— I’m one of _them_. I’m more Galra than human because Galra reproduction is weird and I’ve got two moms and a dad—“ Keith took a deep, shaky breath, “and if you’re worried about one of us freezing up fighting our own people, you should probably be worrying about me.” 

The memory of nearly tearing up, thinking about what if he’d killed rebels prickled uncomfortably down his spine, making the queasiness increase. “Just take me back to my cell. I don’t want to deal with this anymore.” 

Lance flinched, and wouldn’t look at him, and Hunk carefully picked up the platter of meat before falling into step beside Keith. They walked in silence most of the way. “Lance doesn’t mean it—“ 

“I know. I just—“ Keith gritted his teeth. “Just drop it for now.” 

Silence again. When they got down to the cell, Hunk opened the barrier and handed the platter through before removing Keith’s cuffs. As the barrier reformed, he started wringing his hands. “For what it’s worth, I was against locking you guys up. I wanna get to know you, Thace, and maybe know about Galra too? I mean, not every Galra in the universe is bad, right? There’s gotta be… I don’t know, civilians and kids and stuff. So we’re saving the universe for them too. And someday even the Princess will have to learn to cooperate with the good Galra. It’s just…not very fair.” 

It was sweet of him, and Hunk wasn’t lying (even if the barrier blocked most scent) because Hunk was _terrible_ at lying. But right now it really didn’t help and Keith let Thace pull him close and kiss him. Thace had been very worried, and being close eased so much of the stress away in Keith. In both of them. Maybe it was about time that they talked about what a bond actually _meant_. 

Hunk turned around and left with a halfhearted ‘goodbye’ and Keith decided he didn’t have the energy to have that talk right this second. Maybe later.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the comm crackled to life. It was Pidge. “Hey guys, Shiro’s gonna wake up soon. Princess, I’m gonna head down to bring Keith up.” 

Allura’s voice sounded tight and strained. “No, we can’t take that risk. We’ll be distracted and it will—“

Thace hissed, low and angry, but his scent was sad more than mad. Keith realized that he was shaking with fury, but also fighting fear. They were keeping him away from Shiro— He whistled. It took two tries before the comm lit up. “Shiro’s my brother! I want to be there; how dare—“ 

Allura had made a startled exclamation at first, but now her voice was cold. “Then perhaps you should have considered that before giving into the Galra so quickly.” 

“What? How could you— You saw what Throk did to me!” 

Her voice was shaking now, sounding less sure. “You’re a… Galra. A brooding Galra. Of course other Galra would feel drawn to—“ 

Oh god. Was Allura really going to excuse everything because the Galra were doing it to other Galra? Keith felt sick again. “And that makes it okay? He tried to rape me! He didn’t give me a choice! None of them did, except—“ 

The coldness returned. “Of course. Except for your convenient consort. I suppose you didn’t care that an apparent salvation was right there for you to reach out to and trust. Galra always lie. They always seek their own ends that are harmful to everyone else. But you know that, don’t you?” 

“You—! Why… Does knowing I’m Galra really change that much?” But the comm had gone back off, and Keith just couldn’t bring himself to whistle again. His eyes stung. His breath burned in his chest. He was going to break down and cry, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Thace’s arms wrapped around him, and clawtips began trailing through his hair. Grooming, trying to soothe— Keith hiccuped. “What am I? Just a week ago, I was a human. _I thought_. My body was weird and fucked up but I knew what I was. Now everything’s on its head and I’m the enemy and—“ 

The first sob hurt. The second wasn’t any better, and Thace just kept holding and grooming, whispering to let the pain out. It came. It came and nothing could hold back the flood. But Keith didn’t feel so sick after things slowed down to a trickle. He felt tired and wrung out, but safe, warm, wanted. 

Still, the question bounced around Keith’s head. What am I? Ally? Enemy? Ticking time bomb? Was he even worthy of being a Paladin? What about the bond? He’d formed a bond with Thace, but Zarkon had tried to force one on him too. What if—

Keith blinked to find Thace’s mouth on his. The soothing was instant, and while he didn’t really feel much better, he could at least think without feeling like he was drowning. But there wasn’t really a reason to be happy. “What am I? Am I even safe now? What if Allura is right?” 

Thace put his palms gently on Keith’s cheeks, preventing him from looking away. “Do I really need to tell you again? You’re the Red Paladin. You’re a skilled warrior. You’re loyal and compassionate, and full of fire. You’re brave, and maybe a little too reckless, if I’m being honest.”

It felt good to hear, but his worries still pitched in his head and in his chest. “How can I be sure you’re not just saying that because… because all this.” 

“As your consort, I have a duty to be painfully honest to you,” Thace said, perfectly straight-faced, but there was a trickle of amusement in his scent, “I may not have known you long, and you have your faults, but don’t let yourself doubt because others do.” 

“Easier said than done. What if Red—“ 

Thace sighed, a sharp gust across Keith’s cheek. “Everything that the Blade of Marmora has ever found on the Lions tells us that there’s no way the Red Lion wouldn’t have known from the very beginning that you were part Galra. The Lion chose you, and even left the Castle to come get you. I don’t think you need to worry about that at all.” 

Keith… well, he’d needed to hear that. “Thanks. Now I only have to figure out what to do if they kick us out. And… what about the fact that Zarkon is gonna be coming for me.”

That last part made his stomach swoop, like he’d just dropped off a cliff. Zarkon wasn’t coming for Voltron anymore. (Well he was, technically) Zarkon was after _him_ , specifically.

Thace pressed their foreheads together. “If they’re that foolish, their loss. The Blades will not accept you with open arms, but once you’ve proven yourself, you will have a place if you want it. It won’t be simple or easy, but it is possible.” 

He pulled back slightly. “And Zarkon was always coming for you; now he just has reason not to kill you on the spot.” 

“But what about—“ Keith had to stop and take a breath and calm down. When he felt like he wasn’t about to freak out, he continued. “He was trying to force the Rites on me. The bond thing. How does that even work?” 

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Thace asked quietly. “Bonds, partner or consort, don’t form just by going through the motions, although many believe they do. Accurate information about them has been long suppressed and replaced with legends and stories that are as much fantasy as fact, and the current culture doesn’t encourage them, so it’s likely that only Zarkon himself knew that there was an overwhelming chance of failure. Even I wasn’t sure when I stepped up to take part in the Rites.”

There was a quiet moment between them as what Thace said sank in. Thace hadn’t been sure; Thace had been willing to risk even that. And somehow they had bonded, even in spite of that? Keith had to know. “Okay, so how _does_ bonding work?” 

Thace frowned, and then settled back comfortably, holding out an arm. Keith went, wanting the contact. “I’m far from an expert, but I’ll explain what I do know. The basis of a bond is biology. A partner bond is nothing more. Hormones and pheromones become attuned, creating a deeper understanding of your partner’s moods and emotions, inspiring protective instincts, and forming a feeling of belonging. A partner bond can and will fade if effort isn’t made to maintain it, and regular sexual activity helps keep our bodies attuned. For a bond to form, there needs to be base compatibility, as well as care for each other. Causal partners will never even begin to form a bond, even if they’re having sex, although they might form a shallow connection that could be mistaken for a bond to the uninformed.” 

Keith swallowed against a lump in his throat. “So, it sounds like we’ve got that?” 

“Yes, we do. I’m not particularly surprised it formed, because I respected you from the beginning, and you started trusting me before we consummated.” Thace stopped, closed his eyes, and held still for a long moment before finally opening his eyes again and speaking. 

“Consort bonds, true ones, appear to be much more rare. The Blades recovered ancient research once in a raid of other scientific information, that posited that most consort bonds were nothing more than particularly strong partner bonds. The author, an Altean, went on to say that a true consort bond involved a connection of quintessence in addition to a partner bond, and hypothesized that a strong bond could become similar to the bond between a Lion and its Paladin. The final conclusions of the research weren’t recovered, but it matches the legends and stories of consorts well enough.”

Thace paused again. “And you were able to tell when I was omitting things, when I had full and careful control of my emotions. I don’t think a partner bond could get that depth of knowledge. And… I’ve been hyper aware of you in ways that don’t really correspond to a particular sense. So I suspect that we’ve somehow started forming a consort bond.” 

“Oh. That’s…” Keith didn’t have words for it. Did he want something like that? A connection to Thace like his connection to Red. The idea was terrifying. And yet… 

“That’s… intense. I can’t even say if it’s a bad or a good intense, but I’m pretty sure I’m, uh… _feelings_.” Keith winced at himself for how lamely he finished that. He wanted to say that it was a fledgeling friendship, and it honestly probably _was_ , but it wasn’t _just_. How the hell was he supposed to know what falling in actual love felt like? Could he even tell it apart from the bond thing?

Thace smelled startled and awed, but he laughed with it, and a warm feeling that was joy and care and more shifted the notes of his scent. He rubbed his cheek against Keith’s. “Yes. Feelings. I think I feel feelings too.” 

Keith wanted to smack Thace, but apparently now that he wasn’t suffering from a punctured lung, his libido had decided to wake up, _ravenous_. He chirped instead, arching his back and tipping his neck to the side. Thace’s hands tightened, and started trying to work under the edges of his clothes. 

“Missed this,” Thace murmured. Keith definitely agreed, ready to gasp out encouragement.

And then Shiro marched out of the elevator.


	20. The Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm going to postpone posting anything for a month or so, because I'm working overtime for the next few weeks, and it'll give me time to make sure everything is edited nicely before I add chapters! But rest assured, I'm not abandoning this fic.

Keith was so happy to see Shiro, but at the same time arousal was tugging at him, and being interrupted sucked. “Why.” 

It came out more of a moan than he intended and Thace answered with a groan. Then he tipped Keith’s head to the side and kissed him, soft and slow. Kissing was amazing for a quick stop to wanting sex, Keith decided. As long as they never had to do it in the middle of sex again. The broken lock stuff was even worse than being interrupted. 

Lance was walking beside Shiro, a step or two behind, and gesturing animatedly. “See? They can’t keep their hands off each other. I’m telling you, Coran said—“ 

“I said no such thing,” Coran said, sounding like a teacher who’d had to repeat the same lesson a few too many times. 

Hunk and Pidge were walking abreast with Coran and Hunk sighed. “Lance, and I say this as your best friend, you need to drop the addiction idea. I think it’s been pretty well disproven now.” 

Lance crossed his arms and huffed, while Pidge rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Lance, I’m starting to think you’re _jealous_.” 

“I am not!” Lance’s voice scaled up as he protested, sounding more than a little nervous. “Can’t I be concerned for our friend? The Galra were trying to, like, mindfuck him, and he comes back to us _needing_ sex. That’s not right!” 

Oh god. “I don’t need sex, Lance—“ 

“You were about to have sex with him again, weren’t you?” Lance’s tone was accusing and he put his hands on his hips.

There really wasn’t any point in trying to deny it. Keith winced anyway. “Yes, but—“ 

Lance started talking again and Keith just wasn’t going to wait for it. “I’m brooding, okay? It drives my libido nuts, but I don’t _need_ sex. I just kind of… want it a lot.”

Lance started to speak, probably to say something mildly insulting, but then stopped, closed his mouth, opened it again, and then finally said, a little too quietly. “You don’t mean that in the ‘sit in the dark alone and hate the world’ way, do you? You mean like— laying eggs? In the actual eggs way and not just them being assumptive assholes? Also, if that Throk guy isn’t dead by now, really fuck him.”

Keith didn’t really want to talk about this again, but Thace squeeze him closer and it helped, knowing that Thace had his back. And he guessed Thace had explained it enough that Keith could take point this time. His friends were more likely to believe Keith than Thace anyway. “Yes, actual eggs, but not laying them. The eggs stay internal and get delivered after they hatch.” 

Lance was trying to interrupt but trailed off and swore quietly in Spanish, looking almost haunted. “Shit, Keith. I’m sorry; I didn’t know. Did they force you to make eggs or whatever? I actually have no idea about how hormone treatments work or anything.” 

For a second, Keith was dumbfounded, then it hit him. Lance thought he was a transguy. Keith guessed it kind of made sense. A look between his legs when his dick was sheathed would seem more female-human than male-human and— “Not… It’s a natural thing for Galra. There are four sexes and mine makes both sperm and eggs. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I’ve been through this before, and yeah it included the wanting sex part.” 

It was disturbing to think about. Keith had wanted really bad to feel sexy, to have sex and be near someone else. Maybe if it had been a few days sooner… but that bastard had known exactly how to make him give in, in spite of the foreboding. Shiro hissed a sharp breath through his teeth, and Hunk shot Keith a sad look. 

Lance was just confused for a long moment, but then went rigid. “That’s what those rumors were about right before Shiro knocked Anderson out and he got expelled. Anderson went after you, didn’t he? Like he went after so many girls that were alone or vulnerable or different. I’m so sorry, Keith. Nobody should have had to deal with that shitheel.” 

Keith just nodded, and Thace growled, low and soft. It was felt more than heard, but Keith appreciated the sentiment. 

Silence reigned for a minute or two more, almost like nobody dared to speak, and then Shiro lowered the barrier on the cell. Keith almost didn’t dare move. He could see Allura standing next to the elevator, and didn’t know if he could step up to fight her if she tried to stop him from leaving. Then Thace nudged him, and right, it wouldn’t do Keith any good to hide away from his problems. So he sighed and got up. Ugh, he was wet between his thighs again, after barely a nuzzle and even after a kiss to cool down. Hair trigger arousal sucked. 

He could feel the tension as well as smell it as he and Thace gathered what little they’d had in the cell (the clothes fit, and waste not), and then Shiro extended a hand to Thace, and gripped Thace’s forearm when Thace matched the gesture. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, but you can call me Shiro. You probably already knew that, but I wanted to make it official. I’m sorry about the misunderstandings.” 

Thace smiled cordially, but Keith felt a dark shadow of bitterness settle in his chest. He glanced at Allura again. “Misunderstanding, nothing.” 

“Keith…” Shiro’s tone was gently admonishing, and Keith didn’t really want to talk about it. 

So he did what he’d wanted to do from the beginning. Keith launched himself at Shiro and hugged him. “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

Shiro hugged him back, and for a while, (probably a minute or two), nothing else mattered. But then he pulled back. “Come on, let’s get Thace settled in a room. We’ve got a lot to talk about.” 

Keith nodded mutely, trying not to look too excited about being back in his room with his things (his scent) and Thace too. He was almost tempted to ask for some alone time but if Shiro said they had stuff to talk about, that came first. So Shiro took the lead and the rest of them fell in behind him like ducklings. It should have been fine, but Allura was still standing just outside the elevator, and the closer they got, the worse Keith felt. Anxiety, guilt, confusion…

Coran tried to give Keith what Keith thought was an encouraging smile, but it did just the opposite. Thace’s knuckles brushed against the back of his shoulder in a small, comforting touch, and it barely helped. Closer.

Allura’s normally beautiful, bubbly scent was twisted up. Anxiety, and more than that _fear_ , betrayal, hurt, anger. Allura felt alone and abandoned— Oh. _Oh_ , if Shiro and the others had overruled her to let them out it made a terrible sense. She looked pointedly away, hugging herself, and gripping her own arms hard enough that it must hurt. Her voice was so tight it trembled. “Please reconsider. We’re opening ourselves up to treachery and—“ 

Shiro’s scent went cold, angry and hurt, but there was a thread of understanding there too. “Princess, with all due respect, locking up our allies because of their species isn’t _right_. I agree with temporary precautions, because trust needs to be earned, but not captivity. We’ve got those precautions set up now, thanks to Pidge, Hunk, and Coran, so there’s no need to restrict Thace’s movements. And Keith should have _never_ been restrained. He’s one of us.” 

Allura drew a sharp breath, and turned to Shiro, eyes flashing. “No, _he’s_ — You don’t understand. All Galra lie; they’re always seeking only their own ends. Zarkon proved it time and again with my father! The rest of them repaid the kindness of Altea by turning on their rescuers and slaughtering them! Keith wasted no time before he went to Zarkon’s camp, acting just like the rest, and even now he’s got more loyalty to his _consort_ than—“ 

Keith wanted to scream, to snap and snarl and argue. But what ground did he have to stand on? Zarkon had been showing Allura all the lies he’d been having to say to stay alive. Even if she could be convinced that Keith had been lying, wouldn’t that just prove that Keith was untrustworthy? He didn’t know what to do. He grit his teeth. How could he do the impossible? What did Allura want to be able to trust him again? 

Why not just ask? It wasn’t like he could hurt his position more. “What do I need to do to show you you can trust me?” 

Allura went still. Her bottom lip wobbled, and Keith smelled a tinge of guilt. Then she swept into the elevator and it shut behind her. Lance, having edged closer during the confrontation, started to follow and wasn’t quick enough stopping when it shut in his face.

Lance groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Way to go, hothead.” 

But Hunk put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “I dunno, seems like a valid question to me? We’ve gotta get that trust back in order to be a team again, and Allura’s just as much a part of it as the rest of us. The rest of us can give benefit of the doubt and we have, I think. And I understand why Allura’s having trouble with it, I really do, but at some point we’ve gotta figure out how to undo whatever Zarkon did to her in Central Command and help her trust again. I would give literally anything to have a therapist on board right now.” 

“Wouldn’t we all,” said Shiro softly.

* * *

Everyone was quiet on the trip up to the decks they lived on. Keith’s room was right with the others, except for the Alteans, who lived on the deck above, so they stopped there first. Lance started to protest when Thace dropped his things off in Keith’s room, but even Hunk got in on the group stare-down and he shut up. (Shiro smelled really uncomfortable though.) The bed was going to be so cramped with the both of them, but Keith would endure to have Thace close. 

But Coran did speak up as they were walking away. “Keith, Thace. We really should make a detour to the medical bay, so we can discuss the eggs—“

Shiro was the one who interrupted this time. “We’ve got some important things to discuss about our strategy in the coming weeks. You can have them after we’re done with that, I’m sure.” 

Coran smelled almost _peeved_ under his usual effervescent scent, so similar to Allura’s, (could someone get drunk on scent? Because Keith couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be in a room full of Alteans) but he smiled cheerfully anyway. “Right you are, number one!” 

Keith wasn’t about to argue with Shiro right now, so up to the bridge they went. As soon as they were up there, Shiro gestured to Pidge, and she pulled up some kind of coordinates. Shiro rubbed his metal arm as he spoke. “I remembered more about my escape while I was in the healing pod. Ulaz gave me coordinates to a base and told me to go there. He’s been waiting for us, so I think we should go—“

“Absolutely not!” Allura looked furious, but her scent was thick with fear, and oddly, a feeling of loneliness. “It’s a trap! Why are you all letting the Galra fool you…” 

It was a gamble, but if Allura was feeling alone and besieged, then maybe— “Lance, give her a hug.” 

Lance’s expression was more than a little dubious. “What.” 

“She was left alone, with no way of knowing that help was coming. I think she needs the reminder that she’s _not_ alone, and you’ve been protesting my… everything, so she can trust you best.” Keith bit his lip. Please work. 

“Huh, maybe you’re not hopelessly antisocial after all.” Lance was throwing out the backhanded compliment, but his scent was bright with realization. He nodded to Hunk, and they both marched right over to Allura, who was standing so, so stiff with her hands at her sides in white-knuckled fists. Keith didn’t think that Allura was actually seeing any of them right now; what had Zarkon put her through?

She yelped when Lance hugged her, but he whispered something to her and kept hugging. Hunk joined a second later, and her scent broke, like a soap bubble popping. It flooded with relief and embarrassment and feeling safe. The aching fear and loneliness was gone. 

Pidge adjusted her glasses and went to join in the hug for a moment, but she pulled away quickly. “Okay, the base is definitely off the table for now, but I just got a lead on my dad, and if we’re successful, we’ll also free a bunch of other captive scientists. We could probably use the extra hands while we finish repairing the Castle too.”

Everybody perked up, but it was Shiro that spoke up. He smelled so disappointed, but was hiding it behind a brave face. “What have you got, Pidge?” 

“So remember that cruiser we took the minions from? I was able to download most of their database after we disabled it, and I cross referenced it with some other stuff I’ve gotten and my Galra predictive—“ Lance groaned, and Pidge shot him a dirty look. “ _Fine_. Galra finder. But anyway, here’s what I’ve got. It’s at the ass-end of Galra space, and controlled by some guy named Lotor, according to the chatter I’ve picked up. It’s a research facility, and it looks like Lotor is collecting scientists from all over the place. There’s some chatter that implies that he even will snatch them away from other Commanders and stuff if they don’t hand them over when he requests them. There’s a pretty good chance that my dad is there. I think we could check it out. Even if he isn’t freeing a bunch of scientists from the Empire is a blow against them.” 

Thace had been quiet the whole time, standing half a step behind Keith, and his expression was carefully neutral, but his scent brightened as Pidge talked. He finally spoke, and Pidge shot a sly grin at them. “I worked undercover there for a time. The defenses have surely been upgraded, and the security codes have changed, but I can give you the layout of the place.”

Pidge sounded like she was about to crow. “Give us what you’ve got. The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be. So, I was thinking we could use Green to sneak past the outer defenses, and then once we’re in, open things up for one of the other Lions as backup. What we need is a good base to hide the Castle at.” 

As she pulled up a map, Allura’s face had a flash of suspicion, but Lance and Hunk were getting into the discussion and not subtly nudged Allura into it too. The excitement was palpable and catching, and for a moment, Keith felt like it was before all this. They were a team again, and it felt so good.


	21. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter at last! Updates will probably be a little slower than they were before, but I'm continuing to write this, so it's definitely going to get finished! Guess who's gonna show up way early?
> 
> Fun facts:  
> \--All of Lotor's generals identify female, but none of them are the same sex. Ezor is female, Zethrid is a carrier, Acxa is a switch, and Narti is one of the rare hybrids whose sex completely matches the species of her non-Galra parent. So she's female according to her non-galra half, which doesn't look much like a Galra female anatomy-wise.

They planned for probably a half-dozen things going wrong, so of course, something unexpected happened. The plan was for Green to sneak in, and then for Blue to follow, and it sort of worked. Cloaking didn’t fool the outer perimeter, but Blue’s sonic canon was able to disable the drones before the alarm was sent out. They went in together, and Pidge whooped over the comms when they found the scientists. Her dad was there. They were gonna rescue her dad! Even Keith was grinning at the news. 

Then all hell broke loose. It started with some of the scientists refusing the rescue, and one of them hitting a panic button. They were being filled in by Lance mostly, but then he swore. 

“The enemy has personal cloaking! So unfair! Uh guys? I think we need backup.” 

Keith glanced once at Shiro, who was already triggering the zipline to his Lion and took off towards his own station. He could smell Thace’s worry, and hear Thace’s footsteps on his tail. Really, Keith was glad for the thought of Thace being with him. Getting to the Lion took a bit of creativity, because the zipline and the speeder sure weren’t made for two people. Most uncomfortable trip to his lion ever. 

“I’m coming with you!” Allura’s voice over the comms was steely, and Keith wondered how she was doing it. Hunk’s strangled protest answered the question before he could think better of his instinct to hold his tongue. 

They landed the Lions and then Shiro swore and took back off in Black. “I’ll take care of the air defenses. Hunk, Allura, load all the prisoners you can into Yellow.”

Keith didn’t need to ask. “Thace and I will go back up Lance and Pidge.” 

Allura might have protested as they rushed past, but Keith was focused on the issue at hand, and it wasn’t the time for any kind of delay. Thace took point once they got past the entrance, and Keith thought the suit looked really nice on him. Much better than his armor ever had. The sounds of fighting were close by, and they rounded a corner into—

Thace bounced off nothing and lashed out with his blade, resulting in what was probably a feminine shriek. A second later, a weird looking woman who smelled Galra but was way too brightly colored shimmered into view, one clawed hand pressed against a shallow cut on her shoulder. Keith darted past, trusting Thace to be able take care of her now that he had something to track. 

Lance was firing at another Galra but both of them had enough cover to prevent any progress. Pidge was at Lance’s side with an older man who smelled like her. Her dad!

Keith brought his Bayard down on the back of the Galra holding Lance pinned. The Galra got their gun up in time to avoid being hurt, but his Bayard slammed right through it. The Galra scrambled back and Keith followed. 

Bad choice. The Galra just around the corner had _pink_ in several places but the softer color belied the size and strength of them. The first punch buckled the floor when Keith barely dodged it, and when he attempted to parry the next with his Bayard, the force of the attack sent his Bayard flying. Keith ducked into a backwards roll to keep out of the way, but something (a tail?!) wrapped around his shoulders and tossed him back. He was expecting to be smashed under those fists, but the huge Galra stopped, sniffed, and then hands closed around his forearms and waist instead. The hold was firm, but somehow gentle, and the Galra was staring down at him, almost perplexed. 

There was a yelp, and the Galra straightened, lifting Keith entirely off of the ground. But the position did give Keith a chance to see the situation. The one Keith had disarmed was on their knees, slumped over and trussed by Pidge’s Bayard but not unconscious, and the brightly colored one was limp and probably unconscious in Thace’s hold. Keith was trapped by the pink accented giant, and standing beside them was another part Galra that had a _tail_ of all things. So both sides had somebody hostage. Damn. 

“Well, what have we here?” said a voice out the dark, sounding so smug that Keith wanted to punch the owner right out on principle. 

The giant lifted Keith higher, and purred in what Keith thought might be a feminine voice. “Brooding hybrid, mid to late-cycle. Covered with a male’s scent, so they’ve probably conceived.” 

“And in the armor of a Paladin of Voltron, how interesting.” The owner of the smug voice came forward, short for a Galra but with long white hair and dainty pointed ears. 

And that scent, both Galra and effervescent— “You’re Altean?” 

It felt like everyone was holding their breath, and even the smug maybe-Altean looked surprised. “Half, but yes. My, to recognize that, you must know an Altean. It would seem the rumors of Voltron returning are true, and to have a hybrid Galra joining the resistance, my father must be _beside_ himself with fury. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Prince Lotor. Now why-ever has Voltron targeted my humble research installation?” 

“You were holding scientists prisoner! We’re liberating them!” Pidge had edged in front of her dad, and it was way too obvious to Keith.

“I suspect a much more personal motive of you myself, and, liberating you say? I do admit that I must restrict movement for my workers; they’re hardly safe out in the greater universe. But I take very good care of them, isn’t that right, Samuel?” 

Pidge’s dad stiffened. “A gilded cage is still a cage, your highness.” 

“And you had been such an admirable worker up until now,” Lotor said with a disapproving sound in his throat, “but since we are in a stalemate, allow me to propose an exchange. My two generals for your fellow Paladin and their precious clutch.” 

Lance looked like he wanted to object, and Keith could tell that he was calculating angles and shots. This was probably a trap, but what else could they do? “How can we know we can trust you. Put me down first.” 

“Very well. Zethrid,” Lotor gestured with one gloved hand.

Keith wanted to push aside the hands on him and bolt, but he held back. Zethrid rumbled behind him. “Aren’t we going to keep them? I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to carry.” 

Lotor laughed. “Really, Zethrid, if you’re feeling the urge to carry, all you need to do is ask. And I wouldn’t _force_ any hybrid to join me; you know that. Now. My generals, please.” 

Pidge narrowed her eyes. “One general. If you don’t make any suspicious moves, we’ll let the other two walk to their respective sides under their own power.” 

“So distrustful,” Lotor sighed, “but very well. You there, Ghost, bring me Ezor. She won’t be walking any time soon.” 

Thace didn’t even hesitate before bringing the one identified as Ezor over to place on the ground at Lotor’s feet and then hopping back. Pidge said something about a count of three, and then Keith was free of even the weight of Zethrid’s hands. He wanted to bolt, but they had specified walk, so Keith kept it slow. 

And why was Pidge’s dad suddenly leaving the relative safety behind her and Lance? Something about his eyes… Keith realized too late that the glow and the movement meant something _bad_ and he reached out to stop Pidge’s dad’s progress. “Hey, wait. You’re coming with us too—“ 

It was sudden, like a haze being pulled down over him. Keith couldn’t think; his body felt both feather light and very far away. Somebody was yelling—

He came back to himself with Pidge’s dad’s arm in a vice grip, and a guttural sound of pain from the tailed Galra. Thace’s blade was protruding from their stomach, and Lance was shooting at the other two. Keith pushed Pidge’s dad back towards her, scooped up his Bayard, pleased that it was a gun again, somehow, and fired at the one named Zethrid. She? She yelled, and stepped back to avoid the wild shot. The last of Lotor’s people was still in the middle of the area, and Keith put his Bayard to their head on instinct. But then he drew a breath. Voltron was better than the Galra. “Your boss may be a double-crossing asshole, but Voltron keeps our word. Go to him. And if you follow us we kill you.” 

Keith couldn’t see through the darkened visor, but the Galra (but not quite, were they all hybrids?) smelled like confusion and grudging respect. Thace was suddenly at his side, blade still gleaming with blood. His distorted voice was still strange to Keith’s ears (as was the lack of anything but secondary scent; the armor must block it somehow). “Prince Lotor, we have what we came for and now your actions have caused injury to one of your own. Fall back, or she will bleed out. We won’t trouble you further.”

Lotor snarled at him, but at a hand gesture, Zethrid and the masked one grabbed their injured fellows and fell back. That… had been way too intense. 

They didn’t find further resistance on the way out, and Keith almost dared to hope. Then he saw the force that had pinned down Hunk and Allura, and a bunch of scared looking aliens at Yellow’s feet. Mostly sentries, but there were a few Galra. And most of _them_ … more hybrids. Did this Lotor collect them? Maybe it made a weird sense, if the rest of the Empire treated them as badly as they tried to do to him, and Lotor was an obvious hybrid himself. Huh. 

But no time to think about that. His Bayard was a sword again, and Keith drew his knife for good measure. Fighting with Thace at his side was _good_ and they weaved through the fighting force from behind, effectively flanking them. With Pidge and Lance providing further support, they made quick work of it, and were crossing to Allura and the Lions—

One of the downed Galra wasn’t completely down, and managed to sit up enough to aim their weapon at Allura. 

“No—!”

But Thace was faster, and staggered as the shot hit him. He’d taken a shot for Allura! Thace was _hurt_. Thace was—

“Get to your Lions! We’re leaving. Now!” Pidge’s order cut through the panic, and Thace was still able to move under his own power but the pain scent flooding the air now that his suit had torn had all of Keith’s instincts gibbering in panic. 

They’d gotten Pidge’s dad. But at what cost?

* * *

The retreat was easy, probably. Keith could only think about getting Thace to a pod as fast as possible, and thankfully, Coran was waiting for them in the bay. Thace was gonna be _fine_. The shot didn’t hit anywhere mortal and Thace had gotten to a pod in more than enough time. He’d be healed up without even a scar and it wouldn’t even take more than a couple days (quintants, whatever).

Keith couldn’t help pacing back and forth in front of the pod, making little squeaking and warbling noises in his chest. He couldn’t get the smell of Thace’s pain and ozone out of his nose and— and—

Why was Coran whispering in Shiro’s ear? But that didn’t matter. Thace was hurt and in a pod and—

_Oh_. Shiro’s scent was nice, warm and comforting, and the kiss on his forehead and fingers through his hair soothed the squeaks (they were definitely an upset sound that he hadn’t made since his dad had died, but hell if Keith knew the nuance) out of him. And on the heels of that realization came embarrassment. “I was kinda … uh. Not really here, wasn’t I?”

“Not really, no,” Shiro said, voice dry, “but you’re back. Do you think you can go up to the bridge for a bit? Thace will be fine.” 

“I _know_ that, but…” Keith wanted to groan. He wanted to stay and keep watch. Instead, he took a few steps towards the doorway. He could smell Shiro’s approval and that helped. 

Shiro didn’t say anything, but his hand found a place against Keith’s back as they walked, and they were up at the bridge in no time. Everyone else was already there, talking with each other and a few of the alien scientists that had wanted to stay with the Castle, but Allura took one look at him and pointedly turned away. Her scent reeked of guilt though, in conflict with lingering fear. 

It hurt, but if she smelled guilty, maybe she was starting to realize that Keith and Thace were not out to betray her. Keith didn’t want to ruin that if it was what was happening, so he was going to hold his tongue and not lash out. He _was_. 

Lance was approaching, Hunk right at his back. Lance fidgeted, wouldn’t look at Keith, and smelled of embarrassment, and maybe a little remorse. “So, uh, _maybe_ I’ve been jumping to conclusions and a little insensitive because of it— Ow!” 

Lance abruptly arched his back forward and glared over his shoulder. Hunk just shrugged, but a smile tugged at his lips. Lance groaned, “Okay, fine. I’m sorry for acting the way I did. I knew Thace was on our side; I just didn’t want to admit it, because then I couldn’t rescue you from the bad news boyfriend and be everybody’s hero or whatever. I totally did not think through any scenarios where that happened in detail and Allura congratulated me personally, of course not! I guess I was a _little_ jealous, because seriously! I try to catch the eyes of all the cute alien babes, and then you come home with an alien boyfriend. You don’t even _try!_ Just look at you! No skin care regimen at _all_ and that godawful mullet and— Why do people think you’re so hot, huh?!” 

Why did Lance even care? Keith rolled his eyes. “At least where Galra are concerned, it’s probably my scent. You know, the whole brooding thing?” 

Lance blinked a couple times in rapid succession. “Oh, that. Okay! You’re gonna make me godfather of the spawn, right? What do you even call baby Galra? Cubs? Kittens? Kits? Puggles?”

Puggles? Keith had no idea what that even was. “Joeys, and we don’t know that I’m pregnant, so please, can we not?” 

Still not ready to think about if he might be pregnant, nope. But apparently the discussion was enough to attract Coran’s attention, and he came over, uncharacteristically serious. “Once Thace is healed, we absolutely _must_ talk about the eggs; we’re running out of time.” 

Keith winced, but nodded. He could really use a change in topic—aha. He hadn’t actually met Pidge’s dad yet (he knew Matt a little bit through Shiro, but not enough to call him a friend or anything) so he wandered over to where Pidge was showing something to the older gentleman now dressed in what Keith thought might be Coran’s spare clothing. Pidge looked so happy, and Keith was glad that they’d been able to do that for her. “Hey.” 

Pidge grinned at him and then reeled him in with a hand around his wrist, she was almost literally bouncing. “Keith! Meet my dad. Dad, meet Keith!” 

There were smile lines around his eyes, and he smelled just as curious about everything as Pidge usually smelled. It made Keith smile and then duck his head. Ah, the old familiar awkwardness of not knowing how to deal with adults. “Nice to meet you.” 

That was polite, right? Well, whichever, Pidge’s dad (Samuel? Sam, hadn’t Pidge said?) smiled at him. “Katie—ah, but she goes by Pidge now has been telling me quite a bit about you. I heard that you recently were captured for a time as well?” 

Keith nodded, not sure what to say about it. “I… had help so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” 

“I could say the same,” Sam (definitely Sam) said with a lopsided grin, “and Pidge tells me that your, ah, boyfriend was the one to help me too. I’m well aware of how cruel the Galra can be, and Prince Lotor, for all his arrogance and harsh expectations, did believe in treating us decently as long as we worked. I’m only sorry that you all had the bad timing to stage my rescue during one of his inspections.” 

“Yeah,” Pidge chimed in, “and Thace’s information helped us find you too! Having a Galra ally is working out really well for us.” 

Sam sniffled. “I can’t believe my baby girl is piloting an alien superweapon in a war against the worst tyrant the universe has ever known. I’m not sure whether to be proud or terrified.” 

“Pidge is a good pilot, and an even better technician and coder. She’s gotten us so much vital info and without her, we’d probably be floating dead in space inside a broken Castle.” Compliments smoothed things over, right? And it helped that Keith firmly believed that. Pidge made a choked noise and hit him on the shoulder, but smelled pleased, and Sam laughed. 

“That’s my girl!” Then he sobered, looking Keith over, “but if you don’t mind me asking, however did you not know about your heritage? Those markings are quite striking, and I don’t think any species on Earth has quite that shade of purple. Well, perhaps there might be a bird or flower…” 

Wait? What? Had his markings kept growing? Last he’d looked they were just on his chest and crawling up over his collar-bones— And Pidge was giggling. “Yeah, Keith, you haven’t had a chance to look in a mirror lately, have you? The purple marks are crawling up over your cheeks now. And dad, Keith didn’t have those marks before; I have no idea why they happened.” 

Well shit. Keith groaned. “It’s something to do with the medical treatments that fixed me so I could… um.” Maybe if he said it really quiet and fast he wouldn’t have to answer questions about it. Keith rushed. “havesexandstuff. I also finally grew the pouch I was apparently supposed to have, so, yeah. I guess females and switches usually have markings on their chests and sometimes their faces?” 

Keith was pretty sure he’d read that or Thace had said that, but whatever, Pidge was patting him on the back and Sam looked fascinated. “So Galra are marsupials; how enlightening! Oh don’t worry, I won’t pester you with questions. It seems like a little bit of a sensitive subject to you.” 

That grin wasn’t particularly trustworthy, especially when Pidge was mirroring it. She laughed. “Probably a good idea. Keith is still getting used to being a furry, I think.” 

“Oh, is he growing fur too?” Sam sounded so innocent, but there was no way he was actually that innocent. Like daughter like dad.

“ _Why._ ” Keith didn’t have to take this; he was gonna go back and check on Thace. Pidge’s laughter was following him—

“Palladins!” Allura’s voice, tight and stressed and tired. “To your Lions! It’s one of Zarkon’s creations!” 

Hunk groaned. “Oh no, not another one of those robot beasts. Robeasts!”


	22. The Pursuit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the climax of the second act! Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos!

The monster (Robeast was apparently sticking) was a long, lanky monstrosity with multidirectional thrusters clustered up and down most of its body. And a pair of plasma swords as big as Voltron’s, because of course. 

It was super fast and maneuverable, and their shield wasn’t going to stand up to the assault much longer. It also kept targeting the right side with the swords, and it was damn near impossible for them to move fast enough to parry. Keith was worried that Red wouldn’t be able to take much more either. Something seemed so familiar about it…

“Shit, shit— What do we do? It’s too fast to hit!” Lance sounded on the verge of panic, and Hunk agreed. 

Shiro growled. “Patience, guys. I know we can do this. It’s gotta have some kind of weakness. For now let’s get some space. Lance, I don’t think it’ll be able to block if you kick it.” 

“Really? I get to kick it? Hell yeah!” Lance cheered, and to Keith’s surprise, the unexpected move seemed to put the Robeast off balance and its next strike was slow and misaimed. 

Oh. Oh _shit_. “It’s Throk! Fuck you, Throk! I beat you once already!” 

Keith swiped with the sword, and the Robeast caught it with its own, but at a bad angle. It went careening away and Lance and Hunk applied thrusters. Space. And now Keith knew how they were gonna beat it. Well. Sort of. “I can’t believe they turned him into a Robeast. But Throk relied on pattern and muscle memory. We need to break its form and then it’ll be vulnerable.” 

“Great.” Shiro was pleased, and that made a spot of warmth grow in Keith’s chest. “Now we just need to figure out how—“ 

And the Robeast was back in their faces. Now that Keith was looking for it, he could spot the patterns. It wasn’t exactly the same perfect form, but there was an eerie similarity. Each movement was exactly the same. Perfect. Deadly. Identical. 

Pidge grunted under a heavy blow. “So how did you beat the asshole?” 

“Uh, I should have beat him by bringing out my knife, which knocked him off his form. But he was a cheat, and what happened was that I ducked over backwards while really close to the barrier marking off the dueling space. Turns out it was electrified and he hit it when he missed me.” Keith didn’t know how they’d pull off a move like that. 

But Pidge seemed pleased. “Hey, Allura? Do you think you could fire the Castle’s defenses out of a specific point of the particle barrier?” 

“Quite possibly, yes. But the Robeast is more than quick enough to dodge a blast.” Allura still pulled the Castle out from where she’d put it out of the way of the fight. 

“Well, if we let it herd us up against the particle barrier and time a dodge _just_ right, it won’t know what’s coming.” Pidge sounded so sure but…

“But you’ll have to get the timing right down to a fraction of a tick and if you’re off, you’ll be hit!” Well, Allura hit the big risk right on the nose. 

“Do we have any other ideas?” 

After a chorus of nos, Shiro came on, sounding grim. “Looks like we’ll have to try it. Let’s focus on the bond; it should help us pull this off.” 

Letting themselves be harried was the easy part. The Robeast picked up the pace of its attacks, almost as if it knew they weren’t fighting back as much. How much of Throk was in there? 

But they were getting so close that Keith swore he could feel the prickle of the particle barrier against the back of Voltron through their bond. It was time; Allura was counting down until she fired. They had to do this just right. Open completely, no holding back like he always had a little bit—

“Woah!” Hunk gasped. “Okay, is everybody else, like, smelling that?” 

Oh no. But Shiro was butting in. “Feedback from our bond. Everybody focus. Keith, don’t pull back. We need you with us, Galra nose and all.” 

There was a chorus of agreement, and feeling a little sheepish, Keith let himself dip back into the bond. It was as exciting and terrifying as it always was, taking his breath away and jerking his heartbeat into a new rhythm. It was hard sometimes to remember himself in the bond, but his self ceased to matter…

“Now!”

They fired all thrusters, and the _speed_! 

The Robeast was shoved back by the beam, discharge crackling over its limbs. Yes! They’d done it! Time to finish it off. 

But it managed to jerk, and the sword swing that should have cut it in half just sheared off an arm, and then the other arm came around and slammed into Voltron’s shoulder. Keith screamed, feeling like his nerves were being cut out of him. 

They tumbled, and the Robeast was pursuing, lopsided but still so terribly fast. The Robeast was bashing into their shield without any hint of form, and it felt exactly like when Throk had driven him—

Keith remembered the fear, the surety that he was going to not just lose, but _die,_ the whoosh of Throk’s sword so close to his body as his muscles strained to do that backward bend and failed, sending him falling, and how jarring—

“—ieth! It’s a memory. It’s not—“ 

He knew what he had to do. They all did. “‘llura, shoot us. It’s not paying attention. Do it!” 

So close together, there was no way the shot wouldn’t hit Voltron too, but it would work. It had to!

The shot came out of the Castle just as the shield broke. The Robeast raised another attack and everything went white. It hurt, but they knew how to end this. 

“Form sword!” 

Five voices, not one, and in a blaze of power, the sword formed, so much bigger than it ever had been before, and the twitching Robeast was skewered. They yelled and punched it, and the sword cut through the monster like butter. 

It exploded messily, and they weren’t Voltron anymore, but that was okay. Red was so proud. A little worse for the wear, but proud. Keith was grinning past his panting breaths as he guided Red into the hanger. 

They all kind of fell together into a celebratory hug, laughing. “We did it!” 

Alarms blared. Allura sounded _panicked_. “A fleet out of hyperspeed; we’ll be pinned—“ 

“Wormhole now. Anywhere! We’ve got enough space for another two ticks!” Coran sounded tense, but not nearly as panicked. 

Keith held his breath, hoping they succeeded.

* * *

They wormholed successfully, but within a varga another fleet found them. They wormholed again…

Twice was luck, but three-four-five times was being _tracked_. The last two times, the massive Central Command ship had zeroed in on them. And the lenses that helped them wormhole (Coran called the machine a teludav) had started cracking under the strain of so many wormholes so close together. The last wormhole had tossed them out short of their expected exit, and Coran was getting super sweaty (slipperies, what?) and they were all _exhausted_. Lance and Hunk were currently assigned to try to rest, because they couldn’t risk everyone resting at once, not with the pursuit finding them so quickly each time. 

“We have to find out how Zarkon is tracking us,” Allura exclaimed, but she was looking right at _Keith_. 

Keith bristled. “The tracker got taken out! There’s no way— And don’t tell me you didn’t check!” 

Coran wiped more of the slippery (oddly nice smelling, but Keith was weird and didn’t think sweat smelled _bad_ ) probably-sweat off his face. He was gathering a puddle beneath his feet, ew. “It’s true! Our new friends and I have checked both you and Thace, and even the entire Castle itself for any kind of standard tracking technology. They must be using something unorthodox or… well, it could be a new technological advance, I suppose, but I have no idea what it could be. Some of our new allies might know…” 

Sam and a few of the rescued scientists were talking together quietly, and then Sam stood up. “It’s possible that they’re tracking quintessence. Much of Lotor’s research centered around that in one way or another.” 

Keith twitched. _Could_ they be tracking him? “How… Is there a way to find out how they’re doing it?” 

Allura had gone very, very still as well, scent going sour with terror. “We _must_ discover who, and how. If it’s quintessence—“ 

She turned abruptly, back to everyone in the room, and her scent went dark. “The witch said something about my quintessence— I didn’t overhear enough of what she said.” 

Keith felt a burst of relief, and immediately a surge of guilt. If he was the one being tracked, somehow he doubted Allura would ever trust him again. But would she trust herself if _she_ was the one being tracked? He didn’t know what to say. 

Shiro solved that problem. “It might not be either of you. If Zarkon still does have a bond, he could be tracking the Black Lion. We _will_ figure this out, but in the meantime, we all need to focus on getting the teludav back at 100%” 

“We can’t do that with ships hounding us—“ Allura snapped, and then flinched from the sound of her own voice. “No… we need to find out who’s being tracked, and _now_. I can— I can leave the ship, take a shuttle.” 

“Princess, _no_.” Coran said, more steel in his voice than Keith had ever heard before. He strode up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You must stay with the Castle. Even with the teludav working, without you we won’t be able to wormhole.” 

Tensions were high. Keith could smell it rolling off of everyone. He stepped forward, gritting his teeth. “Look, if I’m being tracked, I’ll go. I won’t endanger the team. I’ll take a shuttle and… go somewhere.” 

Everyone protested, and even Allura smelled unsure about it. Keith snarled at nothing. “Look, just take care of Thace while he’s in the pod. I’ll go, okay? If I am being tracked…”

Keith didn’t want to think about it. “And if I’m not, you can probably get another wormhole, right? Just wormhole close enough that the shuttle can reach you, and we’ll figure something else out.” 

“We don’t have time to eliminate options one by—“ Allura began, but cut herself off. 

One of the scientists, with big ears poking out from his head and white horns that for some reason reminded Keith of a gazelle, stepped forward. “Not even accounting for the fact that the scaultrite lenses will last only for one more use, even with recalibration, there is also the matter of the energy. Isolating the variables may prove necessary, but there is a way to do it while minimizing risk.” 

Coran perked up, and the scent of tension was replaced by interest. When the scientist asked for permission, he was given it, and pulled up a particular sector of space on a map. “The Dalterion Belt is relatively small but dense, and there are many places where even this Castle may be effectively hidden. Furthermore, the Galra in command in that system has only a small fleet, and Coran’s reports of the Lions’ strength means it would be possible to win against his forces, even without Voltron.” 

Pulling his mustache, Coran regarded the map, “so you’re suggesting we head there, and scatter to see which group is attacked? It’s true that it would be easy to escape notice in the Belt!” 

“I really don’t think separating is a good idea—“ Shiro trailed off, looking around the room, “but if everyone else is in agreement, I don’t have a better one right now.” 

“A better what now?” Lance asked as he walked in to command, absently patting a dejected Hunk on the shoulder. He shrugged at the looks. “Couldn’t sleep; Hunk stress bakes and needed back-up.” 

“I just don’t understand; the recipe should have turned out fine! But they’re like… glass or something. I mean, I bet we could repurpose these as pretty effective focusing lenses, but! _Cookies_. What went wrong?” Hunk was holding a tray of something about cookie sized and shaped in his hands, but they were indeed translucent and looked more like some kind of lenses. 

Pidge bounced over, and a couple of the scientists followed while Shiro grimaced and explained the plan. 

“I’m going with Allura, or staying with Allura. The point stands!” Lance was quick to announce. 

Hunk, now relieved of his pan of lens-cookies, twiddled his fingers and wouldn’t look at anyone. “I kinda of agree with the ‘let’s not split up’ idea, but I mean, if that’s what we have to do…”


	23. The Secret Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back! Here's another chapter for everyone. Thanks for all the comments and kudos.
> 
> Fun facts:  
> \--Carriers get the short end of the stick in Zarkon's Empire. Most are all but forced to work in the creches, carrying joeys until their bodies give out from it, and the rare few who get into other professions have to fight tooth and nail for it. The medical corps are one of the few professions that are seen as "acceptable" for a carrier. It's sexist bullshit, basically, and that's why so many carriers aren't entirely loyal to the Empire.

There was more debating back and forth, but eventually it was agreed. Pidge and Shiro would head out together with her dad and a few scientists, to look at something at the edge of the Belt that was probably going to net them resources (some kind of ore?). Lance and Hunk would stay with the Castle with the rest of the scientists, in a section of icy comets and asteroids where they would probably be safe and effect repairs with Hunk’s scaultrite cookies (he’d been as surprised as anyone). 

And Keith would head out alone in Red, taking the densest and most dangerous part of the Belt. He and Red were the best for that kind of terrain. Space. Whichever. They would all keep in contact with regular updates and be ready to zoom in to be backup as soon as the local fleet showed up. 

There was just one problem. Well, a problem and an inconvenience. The inconvenience was that Keith’s communications was cutting in and out in this field of dense asteroids, tangled between the gravity wells of three absolutely _massive_ gas giants. 

The problem was that he’d found the fleet that the Dalteri scientist had assured them would be sticking close to the Dalterion homeworlds (several dense dwarf planets kept in tight orbits of each other, and of the binary star, by a pair of moons that were bigger than some of the planets). This was definitely not the homeworlds, and Keith had definitely just gotten too close and gotten spotted. The capital ships turned towards him, and any second now, they’d disgorge their compliments of fighters—

Or hail him on a really weird frequency. That could happen too? Keith debated turning tail and trying to retreat, and he couldn’t get anybody on the usual channels. He took a breath and allowed the message to play instead. 

“Keith,” Korvulk paused for a long moment, expression unsettled, “while I question how you found me _here_ , you are of course welcome.” 

“I—“ Of all the Commanders he could have run into. Keith didn’t know what to do. “Was looking for a place to hide. I thought nobody could follow me and Red in here—“ 

Why the hell did he just blurt that out? It wasn’t wrong, well, except for the assumption that it would be nearly impossible for anyone to follow him.

Korvulk actually laughed. “You would not have been wrong; it’s exceptionally difficult to get here without an experienced pilot and an accurate map, and only the Dalteri have such a map. Regardless, you are still welcome.” 

I should go— Keith even opened his mouth to say it, but something stopped him. He brought up a magnification of the area. It wasn’t all of of a fleet; it couldn’t be. There were Galra ships that didn’t look anything like warships, and even a few smaller ships that definitely weren’t Galra at all. Curiosity clawed at him, and maybe if Keith was distracting Korvulk, the others wouldn’t be in danger…

“I can’t stay; I have to go back.” Keith wanted to shake his head at himself, and brought Red closer. 

“I would not force you to stay, nor will I report this to Zarkon,” Korvulk said gravely. 

Keith didn’t trust his voice, and just nodded. Now would be the time for an attack or tractor beams or… When he was fucking docking Red in the big bay of the flagship, was any of that even necessary? It was a tight fit, and Keith felt a surge of fear. Point of no return. 

Red’s particle barrier snapped up as soon as Keith exited, and he was so open and vulnerable— There were a few Galra (no, not _all_ Galra) waiting, and weapons all sheathed. Maybe he was actually welcome and it wasn’t a trap. Keith didn’t salute although the urge clawed at the back of his mind until he bowed very shallowly. “Commander Korvulk.” 

“Red Paladin Keith,” Korvulk extended his hand, and Keith felt like he was watching from outside his body as he took it and felt his forearm engulfed. He couldn’t meet that glowing blank yellow gaze, so he looked around. 

There was a handful of Dalteri with their white gazelle-horns, but _not_ dressed as Galra slaves. They were wearing clothes that didn’t fit the Galra aesthetic at all, and two had visible weapons. What…? 

And on the other side, there was a pair of… Keith didn’t know what they were, but they had greenish skin and huge feathered ears coming off the sides of their heads like red flags. One of them bowed deeply when they caught Keith looking. _What_? 

The Galra weren’t all Korvulk’s soldiers, or at least Keith didn’t think so. Three of them were dressed in Galra robes with weird hoods pulled up tightly over their heads. The oldest looked as old as Korvulk, although her (the scent told Keith she, at least) eyes had pupils and irises. She also had what looked like a riding crop of all things in her hands, and Keith got the impression that he would never want to cross her, ever. She gave Keith a judging look, scent speaking interest, but then looked to Korvulk. 

He shrugged in response to her look, and Keith had a feeling he was missing out on some kind of conversation. Then he put a hand on Keith’s back and gestured. “Follow me. As unexpected as it is, your arrival is fortuitous. We are beginning construction of a base here, unknown to the Emperor, where true Galra and our allies can meet.” 

That sounded an awful lot like… “So, you’re rebelling?” 

“How dare—“ the old woman said, and the riding crop lashed out. Keith dodged it and hissed at her, and she actually smiled. 

Korvulk sighed, heavy but _fond_ , in her direction and shook his head. “No, we are not rebelling. We are rebuilding from within! We will become a light to Galra, exposing the excesses and festering vices the Emperor has encouraged, showing Galra how to burn them away, and leading all true Galra away from their lost wandering and back to the true path!” 

Nope, that still sounded an awful lot like a rebellion. Keith raised an eyebrow, finding himself holding back from smiling. His scent probably gave it away. “Like the Emperor won’t object and try to crush you for it? Sounds like a rebellion to me.” 

That riding crop twitched and Keith bared his teeth at her. If she tried to hit him with it again, he _swore—_

But she just smacked it against her palm. “Lord Zarkon has lost the right to be Blood Emperor with his flaunting of breaking tradition and disrespecting what it means to be Galra! He has grown weak with his obsession over power from external sources and denial of earning strength on his own merits. Once the purification has begun, he will be _dealt_ with as tradition and propriety demands.” 

Keith gave up on keeping track of the hallways as they walked. If he concentrated he could feel Red, and that would guide him where he needed to be if he needed to make a quick escape. He couldn’t deny being curious either. “And how does tradition and propriety demand he be dealt with?” 

The crop cracked against her palm again, but Korvulk was the one who spoke up, voice booming. “Ruthvak Zera! A true Galra, proven by blood and struggle, and backed by a full bevy of both elders and respected leaders, will challenge the Emperor by laying out the accusations with the venerated Archivist as witness. The challenge is settled by combat. By tradition, the weapon is a torch of the sacred flame, and the flame dying out is a sign of abandonment of Galra. Once the battle is decided by extinguishment of life or flame the defeated is immolated on the spot, and their remains are set to burn as the Kral Zera for a full cycle. The victor is regent for that cycle.” 

Combat, of course. Seemed like Galra did everything by combat. But there was something that didn’t make sense. “Wait, even if the victor is the existing emperor, they’re still made a regent?” 

The old woman huffed, and the crack of her crop was getting on Keith’s nerves. “Of course. An Emperor who’s had failings enough _to_ be rightly challenged through Ruthvak Zera must earn back the right to be Emperor. The Rite of the Kral Zera is held at the end of the cycle to choose the new Emperor.” 

They were coming up on a large room at the end of the hallway, and there were a pair of Commanders in there. Keith stiffened, but he wasn’t going to show nerves, so he focused on the subject at hand. “Thace—“ Keith had to swallow hard against the pang of worry and loneliness that hit him, “mentioned that, but didn’t have time to explain what it was.” 

“The leaders and the backbone of the Empire all gather at the sacred flame, and from among them emerges the next to bring a torch up to the beacon and relight it,” Korvulk said, but softer, and Keith could scent… concern, he thought. 

And Korvulk hadn’t said _how_ but Keith could guess. “Through combat, right?” 

Most of the Galra laughed and the old woman bent her crop between her hands. “Usually, but Vrig the Great won her Kral Zera through the power of words alone, after defeating her own consort in Ruthvak Zera, and led the Empire through a golden age, of wealth and technological advancement. Knowledge is as important a weapon as a blade.” 

Huh. Well that probably meant good things, and Keith let the subject drop for the moment, as everyone filed into the room and settled in the provided chairs around a holo-projector. Korvulk cleared his throat. “We are all here as allies tasked with the renewal and purification of the Galra Empire. I am Commander Korvulk of the Fourth Fleet, administrator of the Dalterion sector.” 

He nodded at the Dalteri next to him, and the smallest stood up after both of the others nodded to her. “Altrin of the Dalterion Belt, Head Minister of the Dalteri.”

The old lady stood up next. “I am Dayak, Chief of the Devotees to Palen Bol.” 

What was that? Keith didn’t know, and the pair with the red feathery ears were standing up. “Sa-Tih, and Os-Se of Kythra. We represent the peace-seekers.” 

The first Galra stood next. “Commander Bogh of Shield Station 28-vox-341.” The man narrowed his eyes. “I am only here because abuse and dereliction of duty among commanders has become rampant, and is frequently ignored, while those of us who strive to always do our duty get saddled with the extra burden. I am _not_ disloyal to my Emperor.”

The Galra next to him slammed her (probably? she smelled more like the pink-accented general) hands against the console. “The Emperor has abandoned sanity and reason and the Empire crumbles. Ruthvak Zera _allows_ for censure of our ruler in times like these and our _duty_ is to see it done.” 

The two snarled at each other for a moment, until that riding crop slammed down hard enough on the consoles to send up sparks. The unnamed commander cleared her throat in the tense aftermath. “Commander Zaivar, Head of the Imperial Medical Corps.”

And Keith’s turn. Yay. He stood up, feeling the eyes on him, and judgement turning the air acrid. “Keith of the Red Lion. Paladin of Voltron.” 

Bogh bared teeth at him. “I’ve held my tongue long enough! What are _they_ doing here? Voltron is our sworn enemy!” 

Korvulk was completely unruffled. “They are Galra; they have the right.” 

“Then they are a traitor! They should be killed!” 

Know what? Fuck him. Keith snarled and rounded the curve of the projector to launch himself at Bogh. His attack was deflected, but Bogh was forced back. “I’m right here, asshole! If you have something to say, say it to my face, so I can rip yours off for it.” 

That was… maybe a touch too aggressive. Bogh didn’t seem unsettled, and just snarled back. Clawed hands, probably as big as Keith’s head, swiped at him, and Keith ducked. 

“Fine,” was bit out in between swipes, “worthless traitor! You’ve turned on your Emperor! You’ve betrayed your very blood.” 

Keith saw red, smelled it as blood on his next punch (swipe. Was he growing claws now too?) and kept pressing attack. “Fuck you! You know what Zarkon did to me? The only reason he didn’t turn me over to the fleet for stress release right away was because he needed me alive to get his hands on Voltron. Then he threatened it anyway! And tried to force me to take him as consort! So I won’t follow him; I’ll _never_ follow him. And I’ll rip out the ovotestis of everyone who does when I fight the corruption he stands for.” 

Someone was clapping behind him. Keith took a breath. “But there’s traditions, there’s _Galra_ , under all the shit he’s created. I will fight against _him_ with everything I have, but he’s not what makes Galra _Galra_. And true Galra… that’s worth fighting _for_.” 

It wasn’t a lie. It was so weird, but it wasn’t a lie. When did he start— Well, Keith would be lying to himself if he pretended he didn’t know when it had _started_. But… when had it become important enough to really fight for?

Bogh had fallen sometime during the exchange, and his brows furrowed. “I will… accept that you’re not a traitor to Galra.”

Keith nodded once and returned to his seat, eyeing the rest warily. Korvulk wasn’t showing any emotions, but he sure as hell smelled proud and pleased. The old lady Dayak was smiling though. “It is good to see an example of the younger generation who still knows what a true Galra _is_.” 

She pointed her crop at Keith. “But there is still much for pain to teach you, youngster! Don’t think you’ll escape it.” 

What. Just… what. Keith gave her his very flattest look in return, although he was sure his scent was just as clear with confusion and disbelief. 

Korvulk laughed, damn him. “Let them finish brooding first before you try to make a devotee out of them, pouch-sister of mine. Joeys are more important than enlightenment.” 

Her scent went curious, but she heaved a sigh. “Very well.” A beat of silence, and then she flicked the console. “Now, these are the plans for the base—“

* * *

There was a lot to keep track of, but Keith was doing his best. Plans for the base, codes for secure communication, possible allies within the fleet… What struck him most, though, was that the Dalteri and the other two (and Keith himself) were treated as equals, even by Bogh. He smelled uncertain about it at points, but he did. 

So Keith asked, because it was so _different_ from everything he’d seen from the Empire and Galra. The explanation he got in return made the old Galra Empire, before Voltron, before Zarkon, sound an awful lot like Ancient Rome. Not perfect by a long shot, but self-rule for other peaceful species in the Empire was a plus. Now he knew why Korvulk had called himself administrator; he was more like a go-between managing exchanges of trade and resources than a ruler or despot.

Keith had to shake his head at the information anyway. “Next you’re gonna tell me that in your day, hybrids had equal standing with their full Galra peers.”

The looks Dayak and Korvulk were giving him answered that well enough. Keith crossed his arms over his chest and groused, “well what the hell happened then?” 

Korvulk smelled _sad_ , but it was an old grief, settled instead of sharp. “I won’t say that there was never prejudice, and those that judged because it’s so difficult to form bonds across species, but the near universal hostility didn’t exist. The consort of my youth was Dalteri herself! I miss her dearly, even all these millennia later. I still keep track of the descendants of the Dalteri orphans we took in and raised—“ 

Korvulk shot a fond look at the group of Dalteri, “but even I wouldn’t dare take a non-Galra consort in this Empire. The first signs were when the laws meant to help cross-species partners, and hybrid offspring began being interpreted in ways that did the opposite.”

“The Emperor outright rejected his own son not long after he differentiated,” Dayak interjected, and there was something thick and bitter and _angry_ in her scent. “My strong, noble pupil, banished before he had even a century of life! But there was nothing a single Devotee and governess could do, so I have waited, letting the suffering make me stronger.” 

The translator didn’t like the word, and Keith had a feeling it wasn’t governess quite like his mind wanted to define it. He was terribly curious, but he was growing keenly aware of the time. There was no way to get messages in and out, except at very short range, but it had been a couple vargas. If Zarkon was tracking someone else, a fleet would have gotten sent to them by now. And if none had, but only happened _after_ he went back, well, then he’d know. 

“I should go. I don’t even know if I was supposed to stay away this long,” Keith said, wincing at his own reluctance. It had been nice, being around Galra other than Thace that accepted him and respected him for what he was. 

Korvulk nodded, concern flaring in his scent. “I didn’t ask before, but what were you hiding for?” 

Bitterness seethed up, even if the Allura had been half-convinced it was her by the time he’d left. “Zarkon has been tracking us somehow. The Princess thought it might be me.” 

Korvulk roared with laughter. “You? What connection does he have to you? He might have forced the Rites on you,” 

Every Galra in the room flinched and the scent went bitter with disgust. Korvulk continued without skipping a beat, “but that doesn’t create a bond. That witch of his found a way to amplify his bond with the Black Lion; he claims he can now track it anywhere in the universe, but any Galra can see how physically taxing on him it is. If he continues at the pace he has been he’ll kill himself. And then he insults me by sending the command to the seventh fleet when the Lion is clearly in my sector!” 

Dayak snorted. “You would not have answered the call. You’ve already crushed two upstarts who meant to gain your sector and command by killing you, on the Emperor’s orders.” 

“True enough, Pouch-sister of mine,” Korvulk said, laughing again, “but I don’t regret destroying Throk’s fleet. Even if I hadn’t decided on this tack, getting rid of that rapist would have been worth the Emperor’s displeasure.”

Keith nearly moaned in despair. “They’ve already launched an attack and I wasn’t there—“

“Relax, Red Paladin,” Korvulk said, “Commander Morvok is more suited to bureaucracy than battle. He really should have stayed with Quartermaster Janka, but ambition is the death of fools. His fleet is poorly equipped, and he’ll retreat the first chance he gets, unless the Emperor directly threatens his life.” 

“Still—“ Keith got up, and then stopped. “Thank you. It’s… Thank you.” 

Korvulk’s scent was fond. “Go then. And promise me that you won’t try to pouch mother the joeys yourself. I will do it myself if you can’t find another young Galra to help you.” 

“I—okay.” Keith couldn’t wait, because Shiro was in danger, and with copies of the information the group had discussed in hand he turned to dash towards the pull of Red. Hopefully he wouldn’t make the others trust him less by showing up late—


	24. The Debriefing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I'm very slowly picking my way through writing out my outline for the next few around work and stuff. Thanks for everyone who commented and left kudos!
> 
> Fun facts:  
> \--Zarkon was challenged once during his reign (before he went evil) over uniting with the Alteans and engaging in peace talks with Blaytz (instead of continuing to fight over the territory they were contesting). He won handily, became Emperor again in the successive Kral Zera, and then formally made peace and even invited some Nalquodians to Daibazaal. (They declined because being semi-aquatic on a desert planet was not a great idea)

Keith headed towards where the Castle had been first, because it was on the way, and maybe Korvulk had been right. 

The Castle was indeed there, and he was hailed immediately. Coran’s voice was thick with genial relief. “Thank goodness! We were worrying our whittlebans right off when you lost contact.” 

“Where’s Shiro—“ Keith debated whether he should dock or change course.

“Right here; it’s okay, Keith.” Shiro sounded fine, and Keith sagged in his chair. Shiro kept talking but Keith must have missed a bit of it. “—so hurry in and dock; we’ll all be at the infirmary.” 

Infirmary? Had someone gotten hurt? Keith’s heart pounded, and as soon as Red touched down, he launched himself out at a dead run. He was out of breath when he got up to the infirmary to find everyone clustered around—

_Thace_! Somehow Keith was there when Thace stumbled, although trying to hold a Galra in his arms didn’t work all that great. Thace huffed against his neck, scent warm and welcoming. “Keith…” 

Then he stiffened. “…Korvulk?” 

“Long story; let’s get you on your feet.” Keith’s nerves weren’t doing him any favors. Of course Thace had noticed, which mean Allura had heard and— Dammit. He’d wanted to control how the others found out. 

Allura wasn’t looking at them, though, and Pidge _was_ , her scent bursting with curiosity, and much more than that. Keith looked at her. “Pidge?” 

Pidge burst, actually bouncing up and down in her excitement and joy. “So while we were on Kythra we met some rebels and one of them helped rescue Matt! He’s alive! He’s been working with rebels for a while now, and Te-Osh gave me his code so I can go find him!” 

But she’d been with Shiro… “Wait, you weren’t attacked?” 

“How—“ Shiro interjected, and then shook his head. “The rebels helped us fight them off. It was only one cruiser, and Pidge and I were more than a match for it, with some cover for the fighters.” 

“I’m hungry,” Thace suddenly announced, but his scent gave him away. Sure, he was, a little, but there were ulterior motives all over the place. 

Allura excused herself awkwardly, saying she was needed on the bridge. Lance, after an guilty look, followed her. Everyone else tagged along, eager to try whatever Hunk was talking about. 

Keith’s head was spinning too much to make much sense of it, but after they were all set down with food, Thace turned to him, serious and worried. “What’s happened while I’ve been in that pod?” 

In a stumbling mess, everyone talking over each other, they explained the Throk Robeast and how they’d been tracked. Keith sat quiet and still while Shiro and Pidge took turns telling about how they met the rebels on Kythra and the attack. Everyone shared a laugh at the reports of the bombastic Commander, and his slip up about Zarkon’s orders (so at least Keith didn’t need to convince Allura to trust a Galra’s freely given word about Zarkon tracking Black). And then Hunk explained how they were using the lens-cookies as temporary (because they’d break after one use) replacements until they got some real scaultrite lenses. He was proud of being able to put together his recipe and make two more pans of the lens-cookies. They’d be able to make one or two full jumps, and maybe a third with some creative workarounds. 

Then it was Keith’s turn. “So, where I was directed… It wasn’t abandoned. Commander Korvulk was there—“ 

Thace was still, scent worried, but all his attention on Keith. The others, though? Immediate commotion. Questions fired from all corners and Keith ended up curling in on himself, wishing he could make them stop at least long enough to breathe. 

“Paladins, stand down! Let Keith speak!” Shiro’s roaring command worked, and he leaned over to put a hand on Keith’s shoulder before resuming his own seat.

Pidge chewed on her lip. “He thought you’d been kicked out, or run away, and was going to him for asylum, didn’t he?” 

Keith blinked at her, mind stuttering to a halt. He remembered the warm welcome— “Uh, probably, but I was pretty clear with him that I wasn’t going to stay and he didn’t argue. But he was… He was holding a secret meeting with a bunch of dissidents. They were talking about preparing for a Ruthvak Zera.” 

Thace stiffened, eyes going wide. “That’s suicide—“ 

Hunk held his hands up in a T. “Hold on a second. Can we back up just a bit? Who’s this Korvulk guy?” 

Right. He hadn’t talked about it. Keith sighed. “He’s a Galra Commander, and he’s really old. He’s big on the old traditions, and thinks the Emperor has corrupted what real Galra stand for. He was too loyal to rebel, but I guess it’s gotten bad enough that he’s going to try to dethrone Zarkon in the, uh, traditional way. But they need allies and time to plan and things, so they’re building a secret base first.” 

Pidge was pale. “No kidding about the suicide… That data stick you gave me? It had a bunch of historical records on it. Everything from before the war matches up pretty good when I cross-referenced with the Castle Ship’s archives, after accounting for cultural biases. So I did a search for mentions of rebellions, protests and uprisings. Galra have tried that Ruthvak Zera thing three times in Zarkon’s reign. The first time he went through properly, I guess, and that one was before Voltron was even a thing, but the other two… He just killed everyone involved before they got a chance to formally do the challenge thing.” 

Korvulk had given that to him. Keith went cold, not sure why he was feeling so upset. “Then Korvulk knows that. He knows that and he’s doing it anyway—“ 

Thace hugged him, and Keith took a minute to just breathe in his scent. It was calming. While Keith breathed, Thace talked. “The Blades have considered and discarded that option several times in our existence, for just that reason. The risk is has always been too high, because of the number of Galra of standing that Ruthvak Zera requires to be involved, and that the Emperor can simply remove anyone from play, before the immunity of the challenge is invoked.” 

“Still,” Shiro said softly, “if we have Galra who are trying to remove Zarkon within the framework of their own, um… traditions, maybe they’ll be willing to hear us out. Keith?” 

“They were treating me as an equal, and included me in the meeting.” Keith bit his lip. “I don’t know how well some of them would take the rest of Voltron, but Korvulk did make sure I got this. It’s got codes and details and things.” 

Keith tossed the data device to Pidge, because who else? She grinned and tossed one back. “Trade you! At some point I want to poke at some of the information on that more in-depth, but for now, I think you should have it back.”

“Ooh!” Hunk said, smelling of interest. “Can I take a look too at some point? I mean, if we’re going to be working with Galra, we’re gonna need to learn about them, right? Knowing a little history and culture will probably go a long way.” 

Shiro smiled, fond and approving. “Not a bad idea, Hunk. Maybe we can make a group activity out of it when we’ve got the time.” 

Keith snorted, and Pidge did too. Hunk restrained himself to an eye-roll. Thace just squeezed his arm around Keith more tightly. “Knowledge is power.” 

That was all he said, although Keith had a very strong impression that Thace wanted to say more. Hunk flustered his way through agreement _but_. 

Grimacing, Shiro agreed. “Finding a way to stop Zarkon’s tracking of the Black Lion is paramount.” 

“So’s finding a way to fix the teludav,” Pidge said, “anyway, we’d better get up to the bridge. Keeping this from Allura is _not_ going to improve the trust issues. I can put it through a security scan on the way up.” 

Keith winced, but she was right, and Shiro and Thace fell into step with him on the way up, hands points of warmth on each shoulder. It helped more than Keith could put into words, even in his own head. 

Allura turned when Keith came in, and his blood froze. She didn’t look or smell upset, but how long would that last? “Okay, I’ve got information for you. Just— Don’t interrupt.” 

He hated this. He _hated_ that she’d probably kick him out for this— “That spot I was sent sure as hell wasn’t deserted. Commander Korvulk was there, with a few other Galra. Dalteri, and a couple people from Kythra too. They’re planning something called Ruthvak Zera on Zarkon.” 

Gasps from both Allura and Coran cut into his steam, but Keith couldn’t stop now. “He gave me all the info on it; Pidge is scanning it now. And look, I don’t really give a damn if you don’t trust him, but if you can’t trust me— If you can’t have a Galra as one of your Paladins, I’ll leave as soon as you stop Zarkon from tracking the Black Lion. Maybe Red will let you or Coran pilot.” 

“Keith, I—“ 

But an incoming message stopped everyone cold. Korvulk’s face appeared in front of them, looking grim. “Emperor Zarkon has pinpointed the new location of the Black Lion, and ordered my fleet into pursuit. Two dobashes until we arrive at your location.” 

The message cut out as abruptly as it had appeared. Silence. 

Coran was the first one to regain his composure, although he was still leaving behind trails of goo. “That’s more than enough time to wormhole. What’s our heading, Princess?” 

Allura stood stock still for a moment, everything about her screaming that she was overwhelmed. Finally she managed to get out a heading, placing her hands on the controls. 

Coran grinned at them. “Hold on everyone! This is going to be a very rough ride.”

* * *

Rough was an understatement. They ended up hell if Keith knew where and everyone (even Thace) conscripted into repairs. The information that Korvulk had given them was put aside as secondary, to be dealt with once the repairs were further along. Allura was avoiding him, and being terrible at being subtle about it, but hell, if they were going to play the avoidance game, Keith could do it just as well. Repairs were a great distraction. Sam was amazing; it was almost like having a second Pidge around. 

But after a pseudo-spacewalk to fix some external components ended up in a … well, it was a snowball fight even if it wasn’t _snow_ (Keith had never had a snowball fight in his life), even Allura agreed that a break was deserved. Zarkon hadn’t come after them again, and Keith couldn’t help thinking about what Korvulk said about the strain killing Zarkon. 

Of course they wouldn’t be that lucky, but Keith could hope that Zarkon had had to take a break too. 

Keith just wanted to be alone with Thace, get his scent back over every inch of Keith’s skin. Of course as soon as they got to their room, arousal started burning so hard and fast that Keith pulled Thace down on top of him instead. 

Thace didn’t protest, groaning against Keith’s neck where he was nuzzling almost desperately. “Wanted this since I stepped out of the pod—“ 

“Missed you,” Keith echoed, frantically tearing at his clothes and chirping. He was so wet, and his canal almost burned from how hard it kept trying to clench down on nothing. “And whoever’s going to interrupt us this time can _fucking wait_ —“ 

Thace laughed, and it was a miracle their clothes didn’t rip from his claws. Everything faded into a blur of hurried sensation until finally, _finally_ , Thace’s dick pressed up and in. Keith’s whole body spasmed from how good it felt. 

“My consort, my fierce, fierce consort—“ Thace wouldn’t pull back to talk, so that was all mumbled against Keith’s skin while Thace nuzzled and rubbed over every inch of it. “Your markings— so captivating…” 

Keith clamped his legs around Thace’s hips, too breathless to respond. His chest was splitting in two from the intensity of his trills and Keith didn’t care. He wanted this, _needed_ this—

They probably didn’t come at the same time, exactly, but if Keith wanted to be poetic about it, he sure as hell could, and screw anybody who thought otherwise. 

He enjoyed Thace’s weight pressing him down in the aftermath (even if it did make it a little harder to breathe) and spent time dragging his fingertips through Thace’s fur, and over his ears. The tips twitched into his touch, swiveling to follow his fingers, and it was the most adorable thing, Keith decided. He could stay like this for _days_ —

“Hey, guys! _Guys!_ This is awesome. Get down to my lab right now; I’ve got to show you—“ 

The Castle’s intercom was _evil_ , and Pidge had the worst timing. Keith threw the nearest object at the panel and groaned. 

Thace muttered something decidedly uncomplimentary against Keith’s hair. And—

Screw it. “Whatever it is can wait. Not moving.” 

“I’m not breaking a lock again for anything less than an emergency,” Thace growled back, scent full of possessiveness.


	25. The Tests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished the Space Mall chapter that I've had planned for months, so I decided to post the next chapter for everyone. I'm close to finishing the fic; only a few more chapters left to write out! Thanks to everyone for their comments and kudos.

Everyone was waiting when he and Thace got up to Pidge’s lab, and Keith _knew_ he was disheveled. (Screw Lance’s “mullet” comments; his hair did too take time and effort to get to behave. Just because it didn’t grow any other way _at all_ didn’t mean he didn’t take care of it.)

Speaking of Lance, he took one look at them and pressed his hands over his mouth, eyes sparkling with mirth and mischief. “Sooooomebody just got laid. Did we interrupt your private boyfriend times again? Is that why you’re showing up fifteen minutes late with bed-head?” 

“Lance,” Keith said as sweetly as he could manage while he stalked over, “next time you jerk off, I am going to burst into your room and grab onto your balls so hard that they’ll try to crawl back up inside you. Don’t think you can get away with it! I can smell you jerking off from three rooms away. More importantly, _I know where you sleep._ ”

From Lance’s squeak, it sounded like his balls had already tried to migrate back inside. But then he scowled through the smile, or tried to. The smile won. “Oh come on, man, you like me too much to do that to me! Besides, the guy code! Don’t do unto other guys what could be done to you.” 

Keith shrugged. “I don’t have external testes.” 

Lance sputtered, laughing. “Oh, now that’s just not fair!”

Thace shuddered, and Hunk leaned over to ask if he was okay (blushing, because Hunk was probably the most innocent of all of them). Thace just made a weak noise in his throat. “Earthling anatomy is mildly disturbing.” 

Hunk opened his mouth, one finger raised like he was gonna lecture, and then closed it. “You know what? That’s completely fair. When you think about it, human anatomy _is_ weird.” 

Something about that statement was just so perfectly absurd that everyone ended up laughing, but then Pidge rolled her eyes. “We’re getting way off topic! Look at this. You know those squishy asteroids? I took one for a sample. It’s some kind of spore, but more than that it’s a _code_. A distress signal! I’ve figured out the coordinates—“ 

She brought them up on screen, and Coran immediately went off on a glowing recommendation about the Olkari, best engineers in the universe. To Keith, that only meant one thing. “They might be able to help with repairs to the Castle, or the teludav, if we can help them out, right?”

“Certainly repairs to the Castle!” Coran said back, brightly, “but for the teludav, we still need scaultrite. They can’t manufacture whole elements out of nothing, after all! I’m wracking the old noggin for places we might find some that aren’t, well, the actual source. I think that’s a mite dangerous when the Castle can’t wormhole in for a rescue.”

“So let’s ship out. Helping these Olkari will net us an ally in the fight,” said Shiro. 

“And, you know, it’s our duty as Voltron to help people out, regardless,” Hunk added, and everybody agreed sheepishly. Then Hunk grinned and rubbed his hands together. “But man, if they’re the best engineers in the universe, I can’t _wait_ to get a look at their tech!”

Mood bright, everyone started heading off in separate directions. Keith wanted to bury himself in Thace’s scent again, and for once, he didn’t think he wanted sex all that much. It’d be really _nice_ , sure, but that aching feeling of _”want it, need it, need it now”_ wasn’t there. Huh. Maybe they were over the brooding period (oh god, what if he was pregnant).

* * *

Coran waylaid them on the way out of the door anyway, still slimy, but stern. “We need to talk about the eggs _now_ ; it’s nearly too late as it is.” 

Keith didn’t really want to face the prospect, but he knew he had to, so he followed Coran to the infirmary. Thace put a hand on his shoulder and held on the entire way. They didn’t speak. 

After Keith was up on the exam table, Coran pulled up holograms. “We’ll start with your last scan, I suppose. If you look here—“ 

Coran manipulated it, showing confusing outlines but… Those sure were round. Keith swallowed against an emotion. Which one? Hell if he knew; he mostly felt overwhelmed.

“Two eggs, perfectly healthy and fully formed. It’s a surprise, knowing your age—“ Coran started.

Keith cut him off. “But am I pregnant?” 

Stress and worry built up in the silence that followed, and Thace leaned over to put arms around him. It helped, but not enough. 

Finally, Coran sighed. “The last scan was too soon to tell. By my calculations, based on your capture and escape, it should be just soon enough to detect the hormones and first cell divisions.” He wrung his slimy hands, “but the scan for that is quite a bit more invasive—“

“Do it.” Keith gritted his teeth, hoping it didn’t involve sticking anything up his canal. But… he needed to know. Thace gripped his hand, stepping back to give Coran room to work. 

Coran ended up staring at his slimy hands for a moment. “Right! Thace, I’ll need you to place the nodes for me. Keith, lie back and show your stomach.” 

Face burning, Keith did as instructed, and fought not to flinch when Thace put small metal things on several places on his abdomen. Coran fussed with the screens for a moment longer and then handed Thace what looked like a vial to screw onto one of the metal things. 

“Now, all reports say that this will feel cold and a bit tingly, but do your best to hold still,” Coran instructed. 

Tingly was an understatement, and Keith ended up gripping Thace’s hand hard enough to hurt to hold still. It didn’t hurt, but it was like some weird current darting through his muscles while he was being doused in ice water. A bit of cloudy fluid filled the vial, and then the sensation thankfully stopped. 

The metal things were removed, and Coran inserted the vial into a machine. “Now, it’ll take a varga to analyze the sample, but if the eggs were fertilized about a movement or so ago, maybe half a movement if we’re lucky, we should be able to see cell clusters.” 

Keith felt like he was vibrating out of his skin from nerves while Coran messed with the holographic read-outs. Coran's motions zeroed in on one of the eggs first, magnifying it until it was huge. One edge had a darker looking spot but Coran just hemmed and hawed at it for a while. The other egg was the same but the darker spot was a little larger.

Coran dismissed the display with an apologetic smile and his scent was both confused and a little frustrated. "I really wish I had more experience. I think the large dark spot might mean a fertilized egg, but I'm only forty percent sure. If it's paired with hormones we can be more sure."

Pregnant. Keith had a forty percent chance of being pregnant. He swallowed hard. "What are the options?"

Coran reached out like he wanted to squeeze Keith's shoulder but drew back when some of the slime dripped off with a big wet splat. "Well," he began softly, "it's not too late for a hormone blocker, I think. That will stop your womb from recognizing fertilized eggs, and in another movement or so you'd have a natural flush no matter the state of the eggs. There's a binder I can whip up and inject into the eggs. It won't hurt fertilized eggs but it would keep unfertilized eggs from catching. That would have been more effective if we had been able to do it right away."

Keith knew what the sensible answer was. He was too young to be a dad. He was a soldier on the front lines of a war. He could die _tomorrow_ and if he was pregnant the babies would die with him. (If he died after they were born they'd be left without a dad, alone, like he had been.) It was better not to be pregnant. 

But. _But!_ Part of Keith really wanted it. Wanted to be a dad so _bad_. Wanted to love and protect the baby to be. Didn't want to say in any way that the babies were unwanted. His breath shook when he exhaled. "What… What if I, if we, want to keep them?"

"Supplements! And we can probably pick up some good protein sources on Olkarion." Coran's scent went soft and warm, like a fluffy blanket. He really cared. 

And Keith froze. What should he do? Thace had been a quiet but solid presence at his side so Keith almost jumped when Thace spoke. "How long do we have to decide?"

Keith was grateful that Thace was taking the lead, and Thace leaned in to press their foreheads together. 

Coran cleared his throat. "Well, the sooner the better but I think I can give you a quintant." 

Keith thanked Coran in a daze and pressed close to Thace as they left the infirmary. The decision felt like a weight around his neck.

* * *

Of course they didn't get time to talk. The Castle arrived at Olkarion and for all the talk of the Olkari being these great engineers, the distress signal had come from the forest. Something forced the Lions to ground and they found the insect-like aliens manipulating the trees like they were supposed to manipulate metal. And the reaction to Thace was suspicion. 

Except for the leader, Ryner. She looked at Thace with head tilted for a long moment and then finally asked, "You have been here before, haven't you?"

Thace nodded, scent grim. "I was part of the expeditionary force that bombed and occupied the capital." 

"I was only a child then, but I know very few Galra of that force survived. Those who surrendered or fled when we reverse engineered defenses for their weapons were executed by Zarkon for their failure and the few who held a position until a fleet arrived were reassigned." Ryner didn't sound upset and Keith couldn't make sense of her scent. 

"I was reassigned," Thace said. Suddenly Keith knew that Thace knew so much more than he was saying. 

"One of those Galra saved two Olkari children and left his weapon behind, along with a disabled sentry. That event led to our resurgence. Do you know of that soldier?"

Tension was so thick in the air that Keith could have cut it with his knife. Thace just nodded once, motion barely realized. Ryner tilted her head and then she smiled. "You may not recognize me, but I will never forget your face. I want to thank you and ask the question I have wanted to ask ever since: why?"

Thace didn't relax. "I couldn't stand for children of any species being harmed, and my mission did allow for sabotaging Galra efforts to conquer Olkarion if I could do so without breaking cover. But do not thank me. To keep my cover, I told the arriving commander about the near veneration that the Olkari hold their Kings with.” 

The whole clearing felt like it was holding its breath. Ryner’s antenna perked, and so did the antenna of a few others. Finally Ryner held her arms out in welcome. “And yet, you have joined Voltron and come to aid us. We Olkari may be scientists, but we understand the social machine as a vital component of life. Your actions, beneficial and not, won’t be forgotten, but neither is your part to play complete. You are welcome among us, Thace.” 

Keith couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped him. Allura smelled chagrined, but there was something different about the way she looked at Thace. Keith just couldn’t figure it out.

There wasn’t time to figure it out either, because the very next thing Ryner said was about summoning mecha from the trees. The idea was cool, but Keith was dubious about being able to do it even if he really really wanted to. Maybe if he imagined they were cacti…


	26. The Olkari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter at last. We're getting to the home stretch. I'm working on finishing a chapter called "The Mother" as we speak. 
> 
> I'd also like to mention that the guessing game about Keith's third parent is still ongoing! First three who guess the correct character will get a short fic from me based on whatever they'd like to prompt. This will be the last chapter I'll accept guesses, because in the next chapter there's a clue that I think will give people a really good idea who Keith's pouch-mother is.

Pidge and her dad got the mecha to come out almost right away. Keith gave up when he found out the commands needed to be thought in binary. As skilled as he was at piloting, binary had never been something he’d picked up. Lance gave up soon after, smelling of wounded pride while he complained about his tree just being a tree. Hunk was still and quiet, not even acknowledging Lance’s complaints, and finally his mecha dropped. 

He heaved a big sigh and smiled sheepishly. “Thinking in binary takes _forever_. I have no idea how you do it, Pidge.” 

Pidge gave him a high five anyway. “It’s a gift. But come on; let’s go scouting!” 

A moment of silence passed and then Hunk turned a questioning look on Ryner. “If we get spotted, we’ll have to beat a fast retreat, right? I think I should hand over the controls to someone who can think binary quicker than I can.” 

“Knowing ones’ area of expertise is a mark of wisdom.” Ryner smiled widely at Hunk, as she took the control circlet from him. On the way to the city, she proceeded to answer questions on how the Olkari had learned to manipulate the trees. Most of it honestly went way over Keith’s head, even if Pidge was thrilled to talk about it, and Sam anticipated the explanations. 

But at the same time, a couple things she said just stuck right with him. Everything was made of the same cosmic dust. That meant that deep down, he was the same as everybody else, regardless of species. Everyone was related, _connected_ , even the Galra. It was interesting to think about and Thace squeezed his hand while he did, smelling, and more importantly, _feeling_ of support and understanding. 

Of course, everything went hectic right after that. The super weapon wasn’t even the _worst_ part. (Pidge’s new bond and new weapon with her Lion was wonderful, and Keith told her so.) No, the worst part was seeing and smelling how shattered the Olkari were when they found out their king had deserted them to serve the Galra. 

So once the Galra had been kicked off the planet, all of the Olkari gathered for the trial of their king. Keith did wonder a little that he wasn’t bound in any way but maybe he didn’t count as a threat anymore. Allura had remarked something about how it was rare for non-Olkari to be invited to such a thing, but distantly, like her thoughts were far, far away. Keith was just glad that that Lubos guy was gonna get what was coming to him for betraying his species like that.

It didn’t take long, because he admitted what he’d done and started begging for mercy. The Olkari had been utterly silent in the face of it, and waited patiently while Ryner and two other Olkari deliberated on a sentence. 

While Keith was wondering what an appropriate punishment would even be Ryner stepped up to a platform and started speaking. She was addressing Lubos, but positioned herself so that her back was to him. “Your betrayal was grievous, and cost hundreds of thousands of lives. It has been decided that your name will be stricken from the Annals of Discovery and Progress and banned from being spoken. From this day on, the Olkari have never had a king named Lubos, nor shall that name be used among us ever again. You will be provided for as long as you live. You will be banned from entering the labs and machine shops, nor allowed tools and materials of your own. If you must be addressed, you will now be called Betrayer. Go now, and fade.” 

The former king had started blubbering in the middle, and fell to his knees begging by the time Ryner was done. She kept her back to him, and as one the rest of the Olkari also turned around, presenting Lubos with a sea of backs. 

Allura made a pained noise in her throat and turned around too. At Shiro’s gesture, they all did the same, and the begging changed into wails. Keith took his cues from the other Olkari and didn’t move as the wailing continued. Eventually it tapered off to hiccuping sobs and _finally_ , nothing at all. 

The other Olkari began talking quietly among themselves, turning back around one, two, then in waves. Ryner was still up in front of the crowd, but stepped aside two let the other two speak. 

“It has been decided. The one among us with most merit is Ryner. Hail to our queen, and may she blaze a path of scientific progress and discovery for all Olkari!” 

The Olkari began cheering. Pidge and her dad were the first to join in, and everyone else followed within a second. They’d freed the Olkari and it felt good.

* * *

They were all made welcome after that, and on Thace’s suggestion, offered the Lions for any heavy lifting or transport that needed to be done while repairing the damage the Galra had left behind. The Olkari themselves did most of the rebuilding because of their talents, but it was still important that Voltron helped. 

Especially when Allura announced at the feast that she and Ryner had formed the start of a coalition, and that the Olkari would give what aid they could, while Voltron would be ready to help them against the Galra when they inevitably returned. 

After that announcement, Allura came over to Keith and Thace where they had settled in a corner table away from the crowd. Keith hadn’t been feeling particularly social, and couldn’t shake the worry that he’d run into an asshole Olkari (there had to be some in every species) who’d take him being half-Galra and Thace being full badly. 

Allura smelled contrite when she found them, and had her hands clasped tightly. She averted her gaze, and then with effort, forced herself to meet their eyes. “I need to apologize. I know now that my assumptions about you and Thace were wrong. I was wrong; I just—“

Thace just nodded once. “Apology accepted. I understand where your feelings about Galra came from as well I’m able.” 

Part of Keith was wondering hard if this would really change a thing. He appreciated the apology, but… Thace’s hand found his and squeezed. Right. Keith wasn’t alone anymore and nothing but death would split them apart. (And when had he started thinking sappy stuff like that?)

With the support, Keith stood up straighter. “I don’t blame you; I blame Zarkon. I won’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt, but I understand too. So, I accept it. And I’m really sorry that Zarkon did what he did, back then and to you now.” 

Allura smelled relieved, and maybe a little teary. After a second’s pause, Keith decided that she needed the comfort but Lance wasn’t nearby to give a hug, so he reached out and hugged her himself. Allura stiffened at first, and Keith almost pulled back, but then Keith could hear the sad smile in her voice. “Thank you, Keith…” 

“Group hug!” 

Keith barely had time to process that the voice was Hunk before he was engulfed. The others were all there too, and even Thace and Sam got pulled in. It felt really good; like a family. 

A part of him cringed, trying to remind Keith that everybody left. Keith forced the feeling down; he wasn’t going to let it rip this away from him.

* * *

After dinner, Thace pulled Keith aside. An almost queasy feeling of nerves washed over him on the way to their room in the Castle. The quintant was almost up; they had to make a decision _now_. 

Keith sat down hard on the bed and groaned. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“Neither do I,” Thace admitted as he sat and pulled Keith into his arms. It felt good, great even. 

But it didn’t solve the problem. Keith swallowed against the tightness of his throat. “I just… I keep thinking that if we die in this war, the baby or babies will be left alone. I know my Pop didn’t mean it, and he had to do what he could to rescue those people from the fire. The accident wasn’t his fault either. But I was still all alone and it was terrible.” 

It hadn’t even been the fire that killed him, not entirely. If not for the accident, he would have had a decent chance of surviving the burns. But it _had_ happened right there in the hospital. He’d gotten a really wrong type for a blood transfusion, because the bag had been mislabeled. Keith had overheard one of the nurses talking about tampering, but nothing had come out of it, except a trust in Keith’s name set up by the hospital after the wrongful death suit was settled (and now he couldn’t even access what little of the trust his foster families hadn’t been able to withdraw “on his behalf” to spend for themselves). 

Thace just squeezed him tighter, and made a little continue motion with his hand. Keith grimaced. “I know that the best decision is probably to flush the eggs but I— That’s like saying I don’t want them. I _do_. But I could die any day, so could you, and it could even happen while the babies aren’t yet born and then they’d die too. I just don’t know what to do.” 

“Children are the greatest and most terrible gift for a Blade,” Thace said so softly that Keith had to strain to hear, “I feel the same.” 

What else was there to say? They sat in silence for a long time. Like this, Keith could almost pretend that nothing was wrong. 

But something was wrong. The war was a looming threat to everyone’s safety and happiness. They had to make a decision now. “Maybe… that blocker thing Coran talked about. I just don’t think… I _can’t_ if the eggs have been fertilized.” 

“I know.” Simple, gentle. Then Thace’s scent went determined. “And I will speak to Leader as soon as I get the chance. We do have the occasional agent or ally in civilian life; one of them might be willing to pouch-mother for us. It’s not ideal, but it will increase our joeys’ chances of having a surviving parent. Once the teludav is fixed, we can visit frequently.” 

It wasn’t ideal, and Keith could feel that Thace knew that, but… It was better. Keith knew very well that being apart from Thace for even a few days quickly became intolerable.

Keith took a deep breath and stood up. “Let’s go to Coran.”

* * *

The procedure didn’t take long at all. Two pokes and done. And Coran had gotten over the slipperies thing, so he didn’t even need Thace’s help. The knowledge that he was probably pregnant weighed heavily on his mind for the rest of the evening, and they went to bed with both his hand and Thace’s over his stomach. 

Morning came with vague memories of dreams revolving around babies, but to Keith’s surprise, he hadn’t had any nightmares about it. At least, not any that he remembered. Thace nuzzled him once, but neither of them were really in the mood, and Thace eagerly joined in kissing and the feeling of peace it brought. 

They couldn’t laze around in bed all day, so they went out to find work. The Olkari were helping fix the castle up now, and Keith didn’t know more than basic upkeep for hoverbikes, so he was mostly relegated to gopher. Even if he didn’t feel like he was really contributing (Thace had a solid grounding in engineering and programming as a spy and had been conscripted too) being on the move helped distract Keith’s mind from thinking about the eggs. 

Except, Sam gave him a knowing look when he was delivering some food and tools for Sam and Pidge. Keith had no idea what it was for, and it must have shown because Pidge elaborated before he could ask. 

She was grinning. “You’re doing the pregnant thing. You know, cradling and stroking your stomach. Dad says that Mom did it constantly while she was pregnant with both Matt and me.” 

“That she did!” Sam laughed. “And she never noticed it on her own, not once. It was a completely unconscious action on her part.” 

When Keith looked down, he did indeed have one hand pressed to his stomach. “Oh…” 

It was kind of funny, so he laughed. The Holts laughed along with him, and Sam spoke between chuckles. “And every single time someone pointed it out, she’d react like that.” 

Pidge sobered up quickly. “Does this mean you’ve decided to keep them?” 

“I—“ Keith hesitated, and then cursed himself for it, “we’re not sure I am yet, but if I am, I just couldn’t abort, so… We should know in as little as a week. Coran gave me something that’ll keep the eggs from fertilizing if they aren’t already, and they’ll flush out if they’re not fertilized.” 

Keith felt like he was under a microscope while Pidge looked at him. “I’m gonna guess that Coran thinks the chances of them already being fertilized is pretty high.” 

Keith’s throat was tight, so he just nodded, and suddenly Pidge had him in a hug. “We’re here for you,” she said, “and Lance even has lots of experience with babies and little kids, ‘cause he’s been helping out with his little cousins and nieces and nephews.” 

Then she stepped back, clapped him on the shoulder and gestured at what they were working on. “Come on, I could use a second set of hands in there. I’ll show you what to do.”

* * *

They were making great progress with the Castle but everybody got a long break just as the sun started setting. Evening was a time for relaxation, family, and food for the Olkari. 

Keith had meant to find Shiro, but decided not to when he was told by Allura that Shiro had decided to start working on strengthening his bond with Black. The leading theory was that if Shiro could create a really strong bond, then the bond with Zarkon would break and he wouldn’t be able to track them anymore. Not an easy theory to test, but it was the best one they had. 

Thace was, instead of relaxing, up on the bridge of the Castle, giving Allura and Coran all the information he knew about the state of the Empire, and which planets they could reasonably free and then keep safe in the aftermath. 

Which left Keith feeling adrift, so he wandered and stumbled upon Ryner with a few other Olkari. He immediately tried to retreat, because it was probably her family but she waved for him to sit down, and introduced everybody. “This is my brother, and his hatchlings. They haven’t had their naming day yet, but that should come any movement now.” 

Keith was about to ask about naming days, but the brother stood up to introduce himself, and that was when Keith abruptly realized he _know_ that Olkari. “You’re looking much better now that you’re free.” 

“Thanks to you and Voltron. If you had not come, I don’t know if I could have kept sabotaging the weapon and slowing progress on construction. My name is La-Sai, and I had been hoping to meet you. You and your consort will serve as an example that not all Galra follow the Emperor. I know it won’t be simple or easy, so I wanted to express that many Olkari have come to an understanding.” 

Keith had not been expecting that, and his expression was probably dumbfounded for a moment. “Thank you? We’re not really doing what we do for recognition or anything.” 

“Intent or not,” Ryner said, “your actions will lubricate the social machine, and help us all travel forward into an eventual universe with peace.” 

That was good to hear. Keith wasn’t positive he’d make much of a difference, but he smiled anyway. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”


	27. The Makeover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the guesses are so good guys! Everyone who was guessed would make a great pouch-mom for Keith, but of course only one of them gets to be in _this_ fic. I'm not going to say who it is in this note, but I'm pretty sure most folks will figure it out by the end of the chapter (even if Keith doesn't know yet). I can't wait to see what the winners will prompt me with for their prizes!
> 
>  
> 
> Fun facts (The Altean version):  
> -To me, it makes sense that Alteans who can at the very least change color would figure out how to make an artificial version, in case of somebody needing a boost, or a non-Altean needing to fit in. Lance is absolutely the best candidate for making this discovery.

Repairs were completed on the Castle in almost no time at all, and then upgrades happened. But there was one problem pressing down on them, even if Shiro thought he’d strengthened his bond with Black: the Olkari couldn’t fashion the necessary lenses without pure scaultrite, and Hunk’s cookies just weren’t up to snuff. They also didn’t have any on hand, because most tech worked just fine with lenses made up of other materials. It was only Altean teludav tech that relied on scaultrite exclusively. 

Then Coran brought up some species called Unilu and the pirating and smuggling they got up to. Apparently everything had value to Unilu, and they were famous for their bartering skills. Allura looked disgusted at the mere mention of ‘those filthy swap moons’ but it _was_ the best idea they had. Something, something, planet eating monster was the other one, and even Keith had to agree that a less than legal swap moon was probably safer. Probably. Coran’s idea to dress them up like space pirates? Probably not safe at all.

Thace, who’d been hovering at the edges of the discussion, a hand resting gently on Keith’s shoulder, cleared his throat. “The Empire cracked down on smuggling and piracy millennia ago. Almost all of the swap moons have been converted into shopping centers, and while most Unilu keep a hand in the smuggling, they use the other three to present themselves as respectable merchants. Trying to actually catch them at black market swapping is a constant frustration to the Empire’s enforcers.” 

Coran looked almost crushed. “No more swapping?” 

“Most shopping moons still have a representative of the Unilu swapping network tucked away somewhere, so your idea has merit,” Thace said, with a tiny smile, “but it will be very important not to be recognized. The Empire requires that security be handled by Galra, and those Galra will be quick to report what they witness to the local fleet.” 

“Excellent!” And Coran was excited again. “We’ll still need disguises then! Give me a varga; I know just the thing!” 

Shiro rubbed at the back of his neck for a moment. “If we need to be low profile, maybe I should stay with the Castle. I was told by the guards once that I was a favorite all across the Empire, so I don’t think clothes will be enough.” 

Keith didn’t trust Lance’s grin for a moment. “That’s what concealer is for, Shiro! Maybe a stylish hat. And you’re in luck because I always carry my self-care supplies with me in case of emergency, so I’ve got a decent stash built up using the Castle’s replicator.” 

Coran stroked his mustache. “It _is_ true that someone should stay here with the Castle. I’d estimate that the jury rigged system will work for one more wormhole, but of course, that means you would have to stay, Princess. The stop-gap takes additional energy and will be easy to overload so stored energy is a poor choice.” 

Allura nearly pouted. “But I was looking forward to shopping. We’re getting low on raw materials for the replicator, and some of my hair pins are in need of replacement and—“

Lance cut her off, bowing and failing miserably at kissing her hand like a gentleman. “Leave it to me. Just write me up a list and I’ll get it. Do you think they take dollars?” 

Thace almost laughed. Almost. “No, they’ll want GAC for any purchase you make, but some stores might accept planetary currencies from their home-worlds.” 

“Do we even have access to planetary currencies?” Pidge asked, “I suppose we could ask the Olkari…” 

Coran decided that was a splendid idea, and sent Pidge off to see what she could arrange. While she dashed away, Shiro spoke up. “I’ll stay here with Allura. Bonding more with my Lion isn’t a bad idea, and we can keep each other company.” 

Thace nodded. “I will also remain. A Galra fit for military service would attract more attention than we want.”

Allura brightened a little at Shiro’s statement, and smelled determined at Thace’s. “We can get to know each other better! I have a whole room full of introduction games of all sorts. Come this way!”

Coran beamed at her as she practically dragged Shiro out of the bridge and Thace followed along after squeezing Keith’s shoulder. Then, without preamble Coran went off to go find their disguises, leaving Keith, Hunk and Lance standing awkwardly in the room.

Hunk spent all of a minute fidgeting, and then abruptly announced, “I wonder if we could track it like we tracked the Lions. I’m gonna go see what I can put together that might help us.” 

And… Just Lance and himself. Keith did not trust Lance’s grin one bit as he rubbed his hands together. “Alright, Keith. We’re going to make you _unrecognizable_ and take care of that mullet of yours while we’re at it.” 

“Why does my hair bother you so much? It’s like an obsession with you or something.” Keith had been wondering that for months. His hair was presentable! …most days.

“Mullets were terrible fashion choices even when they were in style,” Lance answered archly, “and they don’t even have that going for them anymore. They’re a crime against fashion and painful to look at. So I’m going to help you fix it; a little trim in spots should do it, and I’ll even let you keep the emo-boy bangs.” 

“You are not coming anywhere near my hair with scissors of any kind, and if you insist on trying, I swear I’ll bite you.” Keith didn’t really mean it. Well, he didn’t mean the biting part.

Lance put his hands on his hips, but there was a smile threatening to break his affronted look. “For your information, my brother-in-law is an amazing beautician and taught me everything I know about self-care! But fine, I think we can do something with some creative rearranging. Come on.” 

Keith only agreed because he did need to look different and he was pretty sure that clothes weren’t going to be enough. And maybe Lance would finally shut up about his hair when he found out how hard it was to do anything with. Lance sat him down with a grin and got to work with a brush and… it felt nice. 

“Okay… maybe I misjudged a little. Wow, your hair is soft,” Lance said, hands moving the brush through Keith’s hair in steady strokes. 

Keith would have snorted, because really, but he was feeling too nice to do more than sigh. “When we aren’t in battle, I wash my hair regularly and brush it twice a day, you know.” 

“So it’s just your style that sucks, got it.” Lance elbowed him as he laughed, and then started to do… something. Keith grumbled wordlessly at the pulling and it thankfully stopped. Lance huffed. “Okay, your hair is entirely composed of cowlicks or something, holy crap. We’re gonna need some industrial strength hold here.” 

The spray that Lance reappeared with a minute later made Keith sneeze violently and he retreated from the smell. “Okay no. Whatever that is… _ugh_.”

Lance crossed his arms, brows furrowed, and then sighed. “Are you sure I can’t trim it a little?” 

Keith shook his head. “It just looks worse, after it’s cut. It sticks up all over and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. And it grows back out just like this in a month or two, even after the time my foster family made me get a military buzz cut for discipline.” 

“What? Seriously?” Lance gaped at him. “That’s super fast. When did you last get a hair cut?”

When _had_ he? Keith took scissors to his bangs or the long patch at the back of his neck when he was in a shaggy phase and everything got a little thicker and a couple inches longer (usually when it got colder) but he hadn’t had an actual haircut since… “Adam insisted that I get the ends trimmed a couple months before Shiro got picked for the Kerberos mission.” 

Nevermind before, Lance was gaping at him _now_. “Okay, that’s like… _How_ didn’t you know you were part alien? Human hair doesn’t do that. You should have hair down your back right now. Like, seriously. And it stays a mullet? You poor, poor man.” 

He patted Keith on the shoulder, and Keith rolled his eyes. Lance stood back and rubbed his chin. “Well if mullets are an alien thing, I guess we’re not really going to get anything done about it, so maybe we have to go at it from another angle. Hey, maybe we could disguise you as more Galra? Like, any Galra you run into will know you are, right? But if they’re looking for you, they’re looking for someone who doesn’t _look_ very Galra.”

Keith couldn’t argue with that, even if he wasn’t sure if it was a great idea. On the other hand, who knew how far news of the Rites had spread? Maybe it was a good idea to look as far from himself as possible. “That depends on what you have in mind.” 

“Leave it to me, buddy! I know just how to disguise you. I just need to get some things from Coran!” 

And there Lance went. Why did Keith feel like he’d just agreed to something he’d regret?

* * *

Keith had to admit that Lance was _good_ at this kind of thing. He really didn’t think he needed to have his skin and nails all taken care of, but it was kind of nice to listen to Lance chatter while it happened. And it felt so nice too, even if maybe Keith would have preferred Thace to do it.

Lance being pleased as punch about the whole thing was a bonus, and if Keith wasn’t trying very hard not to breathe too deeply or squirm while Lance patted a damp something or other over his skin (almost all of it, although Lance had finally agreed that it’d be unlikely for anyone to see his crotch or thighs or ass) he probably would have asked questions about the process.

Finally the patting stopped. Lance hummed for a moment and then Keith could hear him moving back. “Okay! All done. Come look at your new self in the mirror.” 

Keith opened his eyes and looked. He didn’t recognize the person looking back at him for a second. His skin was a pale lavender, with the darker purple of his markings shining through it. He’d gained a few more, Keith saw. The first pair of streaks across his pecs had gotten bigger and more defined, and the crescent marks on his collar bones had grown. One end swirled down towards the first marks, and the other curled up over his shoulders, towards the back of his neck. Keith guessed that the marks slicing over his cheeks joined up with those. With his bangs pulled back to apply whatever had changed his skin, Keith could see little stripes coming down over his forehead too. A look told him that they went back up over his skull underneath his hair. 

Lance was laughing a little bit behind him but in a ‘having fun’ way. “You look really Galra like this. If you had pointed ears and yellow eyes, I’d swear you were completely one! And did you know that your hair is growing in kind of pink at the back of your neck?” 

What? Keith turned and with Lance’s help saw that he really did have a kind of pink at the very bottom of his hair if he flipped it up to look at the short hairs underneath. It wasn’t _pink_ pink, but instead a mix of white hairs and a dark magenta that looked pink at a distance. A similar shade glimmered further down his back, and a little maneuvering told Keith that it was little white hairs growing over his skin, which had turned a little magenta instead of the purple that curved around his front. There was color all the way down his back, and his hair was growing in thicker there (Thace had thicker fur over his back there too; must be a Galra thing). Huh. 

“I do look pretty Galra. Thanks, Lance.” Keith ran a finger over his arm, and the lavender stayed. “You really know your stuff. How did you even know you could do this?”

Lance puffed up, smelling of pride and joy. “So… a while ago now, after my Lion almost got stolen, I had some bruises that concealer wouldn’t really cover up! So I went poking around, and found something that _almost_ worked, but it was the wrong color. I wheedled Coran into getting the right color for me! Tadah!”

Maybe before, Keith would have made a comment about the Lion theft, but he’d been captured so did he really have a leg to stand on? Instead, he hunted for his shirt, which was somewhere in all of Lance’s self-care supplies, Keith was pretty sure. “That’s really clever. So how long am I gonna be purple?” 

“Just until you wash it off! There’s this soap—“ Lance snapped his fingers and went pawing through the items he’d brought, wordlessly handing over Keith’s shirt with hardly a pause in his search. “… here! Just shower with it and give your skin a good scrub. It’ll come right off.” 

“Thanks.” Keith shoved the soap in his belt pouch and shrugged on the shirt. “I’m pretty sure I’d be too recognizable with just clothing so… thanks.” 

“My pleasure. And don’t forget, we’re so picking you up some moisturizer at the space mall! Just because your skin is pretty clear on its own doesn’t mean you can neglect it!” Lance made the proclamation, hands on hips, and a grin splitting his face. 

Just as Keith was debating the wisdom of arguing that (His skin was fine?) a commotion from outside caught his attention. Into the room came Coran in the lead, with Pidge close on his heels and the rest trailing behind, even Allura, Shiro and Thace. 

Pidge was chatting animatedly. “So, since the Galra left behind all their GAC, the Olkari just gave it to us. It’s not a lot, but should be enough to buy the lenses and have a little left over so we each can get something for ourselves.”

She stopped, staring at Keith. Everybody else was looking too. Thace was the first to break out of the stunned silence, pressing fingers to his mouth to cover a sad smile. He was in front of Keith in an instant. “You look so much like your mothers like this.”

 _Oh_. Keith didn’t know what to say to it (Thace knew both of them; couldn’t tell—) and just mutely let Thace press their foreheads together. The silence around them was starting to grow heavy. 

Coran broke it, and it wasn’t a surprise at all. He was dressed in some kind of robe—except it wasn’t quite a robe, because it seemed to be mostly made of belts and sashes, woven around and through each other to make something robe-shaped. It made absolutely zero sense to Keith’s mind, but Coran was owning it. He was gesturing animatedly with some other cloth in his hands. “And these will be for you, Keith. No one will even think to question us, posing as mendicants of Anaraulus!” 

Hunk, who was in something that more resembled an actual robe, but decorated with a belt made of at least half a dozen other belts and a sash of much the same construction, shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to cosplay as a space Jedi.” 

Pidge was in more of a tunic and pants ensemble, Keith realized, but still with the ridiculously complicated belt of belts, and she made a face at ‘space Jedi.’ “But technically Jedi _are_ from space. I mean, the story is set in a Galaxy Far Far Away. Don’t get me wrong, I can definitely see the similarities, but—“

“Shh! Less pendantics, more space Jedi vibes!” Hunk’s put upon expression told Keith that this wasn’t the first round of arguing about what to nickname these mendicant guys. 

Keith had half a mind to let them keep going (he knew what that big deep breath from Pidge meant) but time was probably of the essence, and the quicker they left, the quicker they could get back with the scaultrite. So he coughed. “I’m not going to put on my disguise in front of everybody.”

The room cleared just like that, but Thace lingered. Keith didn’t mind in the least as he picked through the clothes. They looked like the clothes Coran had dug out for them (and Keith was still a little dismayed that Coran hadn’t gotten his clothes) but not nearly as fancy. Thace showed him how to layer them on, and then promptly pulled Keith into his arms. It felt so good, but Keith just pressed his face against Thace’s chest instead of nuzzling. Down that road probably lay ruined clothes. 

Now that he was thinking of the clothes… “Won’t these be really out of date style-wise?” 

“A little,” there was a smile in Thace’s tone, “but I was able to talk Coran into something more modern. Things like this are still often worn on Edjiza.” 

At Keith’s questioning noise, Thace elaborated while they tackled the last piece together, which really didn’t fit with the rest. “Edjiza is one of the agrarian planets in the Empire. It’s in the same system as another inhabited planet, but never developed sentient life. It was actually given to the Galra before the time of Voltron freely, if the history texts are true. Many Galra civilians live there, although their life is difficult.” 

“Huh. I guess I know in theory that there’s civilian Galra out there, but I kind of have a hard time imagining it. It seems like all Galra are soldiers.” Keith tugged on the offending cloth. It was a sash kind of like Pidge’s, except it was weirdly shaped, like part of it had been stretched out. 

“Military service is mandatory, except for carriers,” Thace said heavily, “but more than a quarter are ejected before basic training is complete. They’re branded as failures, and suicide is unfortunately common. Those that survive mostly end up either on agrarian or factory planets as workers. Others seek to leave military service as soon as possible and attempt to retire after the minimum service. Their lives are not much better; it’s hard to save up wealth in the fleet for life after.” 

Thace didn’t mention the carriers, but Keith had a sinking feeling that not being required to go into military service didn’t mean anything _good_ for them. He dropped the weird sash to go hug Thace and part of it caught the air and billowed out as it fell— Oh. But hugging Thace was more important than figuring out how the sash worked. 

The hug lasted for a long moment, and then Thace leaned over to pick up the sash. With the new realization Keith was able to get it arranged over his shoulder, and the voluminous tail of it flipped up over his head like a hood. Considering what the sash was made of… “So what about these mendicant guys?” 

“They still exist.” Thace chuckled darkly. “But they are not nearly as well liked as Coran remembers. They worship a planet-god that claims to be responsible for the bonds and bindings of all matter and energy, connecting everything together, and binding it so it doesn’t break. And while they claim to be pacifists, they are terribly good at leaving aggressors against them bound quite literally and dropped on the nearest doorstep. They’re left unbothered for the most part, because they stay uninvolved, and it’s too much of an undertaking to conquer something that gives no benefit.” 

So he got to play mystical monk who believed everything was connected? Oh joy. “I hope I won’t be expected to sound like I know what I’m doing.” 

Thace shook his head. “From the clothes, I’m guessing the Coran plans to pass you off as someone who’s sought asylum with them. They do grant temporary lodging and protection to anyone with need, and longer asylum on some whim that no one really understands. Most of those end up as converts so people avoid staying for longer than necessary.” 

Huh. Didn’t make sense to Keith, but he could live with it. “We probably shouldn’t stall. I’m going to miss you.” 

That came out abruptly, but a glance in the mirror showed Keith (a stranger) that his blush didn’t show through the purple. He hugged Thace again. “Will you be okay? We could probably come up with something to excuse you too.” 

“I’ll be fine.” Thace tucked Keith firmly against him, making a soft warbling noise in his chest. “I do question what Alteans consider harmless games, but I think we’ll have fun together, even if I’ll miss you just as much.” 

For a second, Keith was so very tempted to say he’d stay and play games with Thace, Shiro, and Allura, but he was part of the team, and with one missing already, they’d need the backup if something went wrong. So he pulled back and gave Thace a smile. “Good. I expect to get you all to myself when we get back.” 

“I promise, even if we have to disable the intercom in our room to get it.” Thace’s scent shifted in the best way. 

Keith had to hold back shivers on his way out.


	28. The Space Mall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space Mall! I've been waiting to share this chapter. Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos! United-Hermits and Kumiko won the guessing game, so if you leave me a prompt in the comments I'll write both of you a drabble!
> 
> Fast facts:  
> \--because differentiating is environmental and happens late in terms of maturation, any young Galra with access to proper hormones and medical care can differentiate into the sex they identify as. On the other hand, in the Empire, those things cost money, and not all young Galra are left much, if any, money for things other than basic education by their military parents. So it occasionally happens that a young Galra can't afford hormones and medical care and differentiates in a way different than they identify. There are medical treatments that can reverse and reinitiate differentiation, but again, prohibitively expensive. Most adult Galra who identify in a different way than their sex can only afford hormone injections, which help a lot, but aren't the perfect solution.   
> \--another issue with differentiation is a forcibly or accidentally triggered early differentiation. It's uncommon, but it can happen, and the biggest sign is stunted growth. Unfortunately, as many as half of early differentiations are into carriers, and the stunted growth leaves them unsuitable (to the Empire, at least) as creche carriers, so they're cast out and left to scramble for some kind of living however they can.   
> \--Sal identifies as a carrier and uses masculine pronouns, Varkon is a carrier, and Morvok ... is a mess and it's the Empire's fault. 
> 
> Also, tune in for a special look at "Meanwhile in the Castle-Ship" in the end-notes!

Lance had called shotgun while Keith had been dressing, the jerk, so Keith was put in the back with Pidge and Hunk. Keith really didn’t mind so much, and Coran took up most of the trip with fantastic sounding stories about the mendicant guys. A lot of action, but not of substance about what they actually _did_ , unfortunately, and eventually Keith just tuned it out and closed his eyes to rest. 

It was Coran actually going quiet to navigate docking that shook Keith out of it. Hunk was watching him, so he raised an eyebrow, and Hunk blushed. “So… uh, I guess this is what you’d look like if you looked more Galra? Why _don’t_ you look more Galra anyway?” 

Keith shrugged, feeling tense. “Thace doesn’t know, just that sometimes it happens, so I don’t know either.” 

Hunk looked like he wanted to question that but then shrugged. “Well, anyway, if you want to stay purple, or if you turn more purple, I guess, like those stripes grew in, that’s fine by me. I think you look good purple.” 

Pidge abruptly snickered. “Don’t let Thace hear that!” 

“What!” Hunk groaned after the outburst and put his head in his hands. “Can’t I say that I think one of my friends looks good without it being taken as an expression of flirting or something?”

“Nope. Absolutely not.” Pidge was teasing, from her expression, but there was a little frustration in her tone. “It’s one of the bylaws of being a teenager.” 

Hunk sighed heavily as the door opened up to let them out and started up his new device. No less than three of the aliens milling about the docking bay turned to stare at them. Keith didn’t know if it was because he looked Galra, or that the Altean pod didn’t look anything like the other spacecraft, or because of the disguises. But since he’d been reminded, he dipped his voice lower. “So Thace said these mendicant guys aren’t as well-liked as Coran remembers. We might wanna ditch those parts of the disguises.” 

The pout was clear even in Hunk’s tone, “but not!Jedi. And good news, I’m showing readings! Bad news, that’s about all I can get with this version; there wasn’t time to calibrate it.” 

“I didn’t exactly keep my own clothes on under this,” Pidge said, “because it looked really obvious. Maybe I could take apart the belt though. Anyway! At least we know we’re looking for something that’s actually here.” 

“That’s why you guys should have come with me! Coran’s collection has some travesties in it, but it’s also a treasure trove if you know what to look for,” Lance said, as he came out from around front in an outfit that was definitely not his. 

Keith mostly ignored so-called fashion for practicality (except that he’d always liked red) but even he’d picked up a bit from the magazines stacked in the check-out lines. Lance could have been on one of the covers in that jacket and tight pants. Lance even pulled it off when Keith was pretty sure he’d have looked ridiculous. 

Coran was leading them into the actual mall part, and yup, sure was a mall. Some things stayed the same no matter where in the universe they were, apparently. With excited gesturing, Coran announced that they should split up to look for the lenses, and meet back at the clock in a varga. Easy enough, but Keith felt uneasy. What if the security noticed them? So he had to speak up. “I think maybe we shouldn’t split up all the way. What if the security comes after us? Backup is better.” 

“Buddy system?” Hunk said, thoughtfully. “I like that idea— …and Coran’s already wandered off.” 

“We can still pair up though! Come on, buddy; let’s go shopping!” Lance snagged Hunk and began trotting away. 

As they disappeared, Keith heard Hunk mutter something about Lance trying to impress girls. He looked at Pidge, Pidge looked back at him, and they both sighed. “You’d think he’d learn.” 

“There’s no guarantee they even match up to human sexes,” Keith added, thinking about how different his own equipment was. 

Pidge nodded sagely. “Somebody should probably explain that to him.” 

They both said ‘not it!’ simultaneously and laughed. Working out a plan for how to find what they needed didn’t come so easy, but eventually Keith spotted what he thought was one of those information slash mall map boards. It was indeed what it looked like, but Keith had no idea what the writing on it was, and neither did Pidge. (Her translation program was just for Galran, apparently.)

Pidge looked at Keith and shrugged. Keith remembered Lance in the Balmera, and what could it hurt? “Poke at random, then?” 

Poking at random didn’t really do much, but Keith quickly got the hang of zooming in on different sections, which would bring up a holo of the storefronts. The different colors on the map apparently represented different types of stores. Clothing, nope. That was a food court. Electronics…maybe? Wait! “Is that…?” 

Pidge squinted at the image, which had a sign displaying several different writing systems. She poked at her pad and then grinned. “Yeah, it’s got Galran on it. It’s an information booth; let’s go!” 

The alien manning the booth was an Unilu, even, and Keith didn’t try to hide his smile. But he let Pidge take the lead. She was quick to go up to the booth, a polite smile on her face. “Hi! I’m looking for an antique, and I was told the best place to find it would be an Unilu swap shop, but we can’t find it. Can you help us?” 

The Unilu started to answer, but did an abrupt double take at Keith and mumbled something about her break. Promptly a shade was pulled down over the window of the booth, and even if Keith couldn’t read it, he suspected it read closed. Damn. Had he just ruined their chances because he looked Galra? Because that _had_ to be it; Thace had talked about the Empire cracking down on the Unilu. 

Pidge didn’t say anything, but her scent was thick with concern, and what Keith was pretty sure was being insulted on his behalf. Her smile was a little forced. “Don’t worry. That means there definitely is one here, and she was starting to gesture that way before she caught sight of you so—“ 

There was nothing else to do but head that way, and in an actual surprise, as big as this place was, they bumped into Hunk and a dejected looking Lance. Lance brightened immediately when he saw them. “Okay! We’re switching partners, stat. Hunk’s space monk vibes are ruining my cool image with the ladies.” 

He looked towards Keith, but one of the aliens walking down the mall towards them abruptly stopped and crossed to the far side to keep going on spotting Keith. Lance winced, and Keith bristled, digging his fingernails into his palms (ow fuck, why did it hurt so much more than usual?) to avoid making a scene by calling them on it like he wanted to. 

Lance went to Pidge instead. “I hereby nominate you as my new space mall buddy! Sorry, Keith.” 

Pidge had jabbed him in the side before he said the last part, and Keith knew it wasn’t anybody’s fault, but disgust and uncertainty roiled in his stomach. It was like people were afraid of him, even if he hadn’t done anything, and it sucked. He didn’t say anything as Lance dragged Pidge off, and Hunk put an arm around his shoulders. It helped a little, even if it got them both looks. 

Hunk was talking. “Okay, so me and Lance were hitting nothing but dead ends, so I think we deserve a break _and_ you’re looking a little skinnier than usual. So let’s go get some lunch, my treat.” 

Keith couldn’t help a little smile. “You just want to try all the new foods.” 

“Maybe a little,” Hunk admitted, without even a hint of embarrassment, “but it’s still a good idea, especially if… uh. You know.” 

The gesture at Keith’s stomach made the meaning clear. Keith wasn’t going to think about being probably pregnant today, nope. On the other hand, Keith was hungry, and maybe they could find something that was easier on his stomach than Altean food goo. Even with the addition of different foods from Olkarion, food goo by necessity made up most of everybody’s diets and it was one thing about his captivity that Keith actually _missed_. Even if Galra food goo was kind of tasteless, it was still so much better. So he nodded. “Let’s go.” 

Hunk was a lot more enthusiastic about the prospect, and immediately went for the floating trays of free samples, trying literally everything. Keith tried a few things but he was being more cautious, avoiding anything that smelled sweet or… bread-y. Keith didn’t really have another word for that particular smell, but he knew well enough that breaded meats were likely to make his stomach unhappy with him, and he didn’t dare risk it now. 

Keith was just contemplating getting something to eat from the place that had offered the spicy drinks when the scent of Hunk’s distress reached him. Hunk wasn’t too far away, but his shoulders had hunched up defensively and he was cringing away from… a Galra. On the short side and hefty instead of lean, and scowling. Great. Just great. Keith couldn’t figure out much from the scent either, because the Galra smelled both like Thace and other males and kind of like the pink-accented probably-lady general that’d been working with Lotor. Keith couldn’t figure out if it was the Galra’s scent, or if it was some kind of scent on the Galra’s skin and clothes.

He got in hearing range just in time to hear the Galra say, “just for that, kid, you owe me a thousand GAC.” 

“What?” Hunk stiffened and straightened, insulted enough to put aside his discomfort. “Just a second ago it was only five hundred! I thought it was a free sample, and it wasn’t even _good_.” 

“Just pay him; we didn’t come here to make trouble.” Keith pulled out the GAC they’d gotten as the Galra bared his teeth a little. While he wasn’t entirely mollified that it was just the five hundred, at least he didn’t look like he was considering calling security on them yet.

But just because the Galra didn’t look furious, didn’t mean he (it was the same word for ‘me’ that Thace used, under the translation, so he) wasn’t insulted. “This is sustenance prepared to Imperial standards, kid. It provides for all nutritional needs; it doesn’t need to taste good.” 

Hunk’s scent rapidly cycled between horror and pity. “Oh you poor man. Of course food needs to taste good! That’s what makes it worth eating!” 

It was obvious to Keith that Hunk was working himself up into a rant about the importance of good food, and Keith was touched, but he also didn’t think the Galra would appreciate it. “Hey, I know food is really important to you, but you know how expensive real food is, even in the military. Honestly, I think it’s an accomplishment that this guy managed to make food goo have _texture_ in those things.” 

Because they were made of Galra food goo, Keith could smell it. The Galra looked almost interested, and smelled less upset, but Hunk kept glancing back and forth between them. “But! _Flavor_.” 

“Is not what we’re here for,” Keith said, as gently as he could. He didn’t want to keep Hunk from one of his passions, but at the same time, the scaultrite was so much more important. “And we’re on a time limit.” 

Hunk deflated. “I know. I do… just it always upsets me to see food done improperly.” He wrinkled his nose, looking around for what Keith guessed was a clock. “Do we have time to eat before we start looking again? You _really_ can’t afford to go skipping meals, you know.” 

Keith considered it, and he was hungry, so he nodded. “Let’s go find something, then, but we’ve gotta be quick about it. We still don’t know where to start looking for the—“ And the Galra could definitely overhear, this close, so Keith coughed to cover up what he’d started to say. “…the you know what.” 

The Galra started looking around, and then cleared his throat, whispering. “I think I know what you’re looking for, but not out here.” 

Keith looked at Hunk; Hunk looked right back. Was it a trap? No, Keith thought he could smell the lies if this guy tried; he was pretty open with his scent. He must have gotten the wrong idea somehow. “How could you know?” 

The Galra stiffened. “Look, I just know okay. And not out here. ’s not exactly legal, is it.” 

Keith was still pretty sure that the Galra had the wrong idea, although about what, Keith had no clue. On the other hand, he probably lived as well as worked in this moon, so maybe they could ask him where the swap shop was. He probably wouldn’t get scared of Keith being Galra like the information Unilu had been. He shot Hunk a questioning look and Hunk just shrugged a shoulder. His gut said go for it. “Alright fine.” 

They were led into the kitchen of the place, and there was an alien that would have looked elderly if they’d been human _chained_ back there. But the Galra just leaned over the counter to take another look around before smiling at the alien. “Dal, be a dear and close up for a nutrition break, would you? And when you’ve finished your meal, do something about that sustenance preparation unit; it’s sparking again.”

The Galra’s smile faded as he eyed the robot that was indeed sparking, and he pulled the security gate down over the window, effectively blocking off sight of the mall outside. The frail looking alien was up in a moment, unlocking the cuffs and throwing a big hug around the Galra’s middle. Their (her?) voice sounded bright and feminine, and she was tottering towards the door in a split second. “Thank you, Sal!” 

Sal looked almost fond as he watched her and then followed. It was a cramped hallway beyond the door, full of boxes and carts, but down the way, there were doors with what Keith was pretty sure were numbers. And inside one of those doors with a space-scooter parked outside it… a completely unassuming apartment. Cramped, but well-lived in. 

With the sounds of messy sobbing coming from what Keith thought was either a kitchen or a bedroom. Maybe the bathroom? Sal sniffed deeply and then groaned. “Var! How many times have I told you to warn me if your pouch-brother is coming to visit.” 

The sobbing stopped abruptly, and a second later another Galra poked their head out of the other room. Smaller even than Sal, and very… round, and with salty tear scent clinging to their wet… uniform. Shit. The new Galra pointed at them dramatically. “Suspicious characters! What are you doing pretending to be mendicants of Anaraulus in my mall, huh?” 

“Var, _breathe_.” 

The space mall cop, because Keith would bet his GAC that’s what this Galra was, did obligingly take a deep breath, and promptly voiced a drawn out “oh” of some realization. “Fine, but one toe-claw out of line, little brood-mother, and I’ll be forced to take action. This is Varkon’s mall, and Varkon protects it from miscreants with his life!” 

It took Keith half a second to figure out the Galra was referring to himself in third person, and anyway, the ‘little’ made him bristle. But Var or Varkon or whatever was still barely taller than him. Keith felt compelled to mutter something in response. “I’m not little.” 

“Var, stop antagonizing our guests. And yeah, you are, kid.” Sal crossed his arms, and jerked his head to the chairs against the wall. “Have a seat. Anyway, you’ve probably already figured out that I’m Sal. This is my partner, Varkon. So what’re you and your friend looking for?” 

Hunk wasn’t going to manage sitting still, nearly bursting from nerves, and Keith tried (and failed) to give him a reassuring smile. “Well… there’s an Unilu swap shop here, right? Do you know where it is?” 

“Yeah,” Hunk said, “we really need a thing, and it’s probably in one of their shops! I mean, technically it could be other places, but if it was we probably wouldn’t be able to afford it anyway so, swap shop?” 

Sal sat down and promptly leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “In a swap shop, it might be centuries old. Now, I can’t do anything for free, but I can get you supplements at the very least without draining all your funds.” 

“Those would be great, but—“ Hunk began. 

Keith felt hot and cold at the same time, and couldn’t look at Sal. “We’re not looking for supplements.” 

“And you’re just gonna let your joeys and yourself suffer malnutrition, then?” Sal said, with a hint of snarl in his voice. 

What— Logically, Keith suspected that other Galra might be able to smell it, but at the same time, it was a very uncomfortable surprise to have it thrust in his face. “I’m not— I don’t know I even am, yet!” 

Sal actually had visible pupils to show how he was rolling his eyes. “Kid, anybody can smell that you’re coming off a brooding period without any contraceptives, and I can smell the sire all over you. You smell bonded, besides that. Let me guess, you met a soldier on leave and he talked you into it by telling you stories about how he’d saved up plenty for a creche carrier. But now that it’s done, you found out that he’s saved up squat, and can’t carry himself because of his career.”

Keith didn’t know what to say. Hunk started to say something, but shut his mouth abruptly and focused intently on fiddling his fingers in his lap. Really, if he ignored Thace being a rebel, it wasn’t far off to say that Thace was a soldier who couldn’t afford a carrier. A complete denial would probably make Sal suspicious and… not in Sal’s home. Bad idea. So Keith could fudge things! “That’s not how things happened at all. And he’s willing but it’d be really risky.” 

Hope that Sal might take it for what Keith was sure was implied flared up in his chest. Sal’s look was critical. “‘cause he can’t take leave, and you’re worried the joeys might take after you?” 

Keith spared a nod, hunching his shoulders against the way even thinking about what could have happened if he hadn’t escaped made his skin crawl. 

“So supplements first, or you’re probably not going to make it through the entire brooding with live joeys, as skin and bones as you are.” Sal paused and named a figure. 

Keith grimaced. It was basically all the extra he and Hunk had, combined. Hunk’s brows furrowed. “Okay, but… they’re eggs, right? Aren’t the, uh, joeys getting their nutrition from the yolks and not Keith?” 

The other Galra, Varkon, had been hovering by the wall, and he spoke up, looking almost eager to explain. His scent was bright, and so much like the pink-accented general’s. “Only in lesser egg producing species! Brood mothers produce nutrient rich secretions in their wombs to keep the yolks replenished until the birth. Not having supplements or enough food is just as bad for a brood-mother as a pouch-mother. ” 

Hunk took it in with a bemused expression that said he was having trouble picturing it, but then nodded firmly. “If we combine what we have; we’ll have enough.” 

And nope. Keith wasn’t going to be responsible on Hunk giving up on whatever food he was probably planning on getting (he’d benefit from it later; he was sure) for his sake. “Hunk, no. Your cut is for you to spend on something you want. We’ll find some cheaper elsewhere—“ 

“No we won’t. There’s a store selling all kinds of supplements two levels—three? I’ve gotten turned around too many times today—down and it was three times as much there. This is a deal, as long as this guy is on the up and up.” Hunk had drawn himself up, and Keith knew there was no arguing. 

So he muttered a fine, and one transaction later, he had several bottles to tuck inside the roomy pockets of his borrowed clothes. He couldn’t read the directions to save his life, and it would suck if they had been played, but something in Keith’s gut told him that this Sal was on the level. But they were running out of time, so Keith stood up. 

“Thank you, but we can’t stay any longer.” 

Sal nodded and reached out to do the Galra version of a handshake before handing Keith what looked like a bunch of numbers. Keith raised an eyebrow at it even as he took it, and Sal huffed. “My encrypted communication code, kid. There’s plenty of Galra that get screwed by the system when it comes to reproducing, and there’s a network of us that help how we can. Not _free_ because nutrition is expensive on its own, but contact me when you’re further along and I can find you somebody who can carry for you.”

It would probably be safer to have one of the Blades carry, but at the same time, Keith had no idea if what he’d bought was enough, if he was pregnant, so having a way to ask who else might sell cheaper supplements was good. His thank you was cut off by the other door opening, and a sniffling Galra coming through it.

A sniffling Galra in _Commander_ armor, as singed and half-melted as it looked. Worse, a Galra that Keith recognized. He fought the urge to go for his knife, because maybe he’d be lucky and the Galra wouldn’t recognize him—

“ _You!”_ A pleased smile immediately replaced the shock. “Varkon, get your restraints. I know how I’m going to get my command back!” 

“No.” Keith wasn’t going to have that contact after all. It made him feel a little queasy to think, but if it came to protecting himself (his maybe children) and Voltron, he’d do it. “I’ll kill you before I let you take me back there to be enslaved or raped to death.” 

The commander took a step back, uncertainty in his (his? he smelled…odd) scent. His hands went to his sides, but he didn’t have a weapon; none of them did. “We have you out-numbered, Paladin of Voltron! Lord Zarkon will be so pleased; he’ll have to give me my fleet back.”

Revulsion turned Keith’s stomach, and he had to take deep breaths not to give in to it. “Two against three isn’t bad odds, considering that I kicked your ass without any effort during the rites. I didn’t come here for a fight, but push, and I won’t hold back.” 

Varkon was super tense, and his voice was hesitant. “Morvok, what’s going on?” 

So that’s who it was. Having a face to put to the name, and a name to put to the Galra that had almost eagerly yielded to him (Probably out of self-preservation) didn’t do much to improve the situation, but felt oddly satisfying. 

Morvok puffed himself up. “This is the Red Paladin; I told you about getting the honor of participating in the rites in my last message. And medical treatment has really improved your appearance and health, Paladin. If you come along quietly, I’ll use my influence as a respected Commander to keep you safe from others.” 

Nope. No. “Why do you all think I will fall for that? Zarkon tried to force the rites on me himself; even if I was willing, it won’t work. And if I refuse him, it’ll probably end in turning me over to the fleet for stress release. I’m _never_ going back.” 

Varkon gasped. “Lord Zarkon would never—“ 

The heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him, and Sal shook his head. “Sorry, Var, but the Emperor isn’t the hero you imagine he is; he probably never was.”

“Uh, actually,” Hunk said, starting brightly but trailing off uncomfortably by the end, “Zarkon was the Black Paladin once, so I… he was probably a hero then. You know… defending the universe instead of conquering it. I’ll shut up now.” 

Morvok drew himself up to his not-intimidating full height, and snapped shrilly, betraying his discomfort. “It doesn’t matter what any of us thinks; he’s still our Emperor! My life is over without my fleet, so I have to do this.” 

Varkon frowned. “Couldn’t you just go back to the quartermaster? He never wastes resources and he said you were his most intelligent lieutenant, right?” 

“But my fleet,” Morvok whined in response. 

“You ain’t getting it back,” Sal said suddenly, sharply. “You know that. Even without the damn failure, you had to be three times better than anyone else in the past decade to get a shitty post. Even before that, you’d have been dismissed or forced into the medical corps if the quartermaster hadn’t taken an interest in you. Face it, no matter how much you try to alter your scent, the military treats the carriers like crap and they’ll never see you as anything else.” 

Morvok protested, but his strange scent clicked to Keith. So he and Varkon and the pink-accented general and the head of the medical corps were all carriers and Morvok was trying to hide his scent. It didn’t explain why Sal smelled kind of like them and kind of not. It wasn’t _just_ scent that had gotten on him, but Keith didn’t know what to make of it.

While Keith was puzzling over that, Morvok’s shrill accusation had pissed Sal off somehow, and the two were snarling at each other. Sal’s ears were pressed flat against his head. “If you accuse me of being a fraud, you’re calling yourself one too.”

Varkon was getting between them as the oily scent of anger rose, and Keith risked a glance at Hunk. Their eyes met and Keith jerked his head over his shoulder. Now was probably a good time to split. Hunk nodded, and they almost made it out the door before they were noticed. The shout just spurred them on into a run, and Keith’s focus narrowed down into avoiding obstacles. 

In spite of that, Morvok almost caught up by the time they were back in the food court, but ended up grappled around the shoulders by Sal. Keith risked a brief smile back and—

Collided with something that _mooed_. A cow, here? What even. 

“Hey! Watch it; Kaltenecker’s feelings are hurt now!” Lance (wait, _Lance_?) snapped from his position astride the cow that Keith had knocked into. He had a bag of what Keith was pretty sure was Earth cosmetics in the hand he had pressed against his hip.

“How did you get cows? Do I want to know where you even found cows in a mall?” Hunk asked, caught between despairing and intrigued. 

“So alien stories from Earth are real! Or have a basis in fact, anyway. They apparently collect and catalogue specimens from every planet in the universe; who knew? But they only took humans a couple times, and put them back once they realized humans were sentient. They really love cows though.” Pidge was on the back of the second cow which was really hairy, clutching a box and what looked like some old disk-based video games to her chest. She looked absolutely thrilled. 

Behind them, Morvok had broken free from Sal and was gaining. Keith swore under his breath. “Talking later; getting out of the mall now!” 

Lance laughed. “What, a little shopping overwhe—and that’s Commander armor, isn’t it? Right. Let’s hightail it! Hop on. Trust me.” 

Hunk’s dubious look stayed firmly in place, but they both picked a cow and hopped on. Turned out that the cows came with hoverboards for transport, and they were able to sail right down to the exit level. But where was Coran?

There! He was holding something to his chest and bouncing out of the way of an Unilu, who looked furious. Coran’s voice was short and clipped. “No take-backsies! And you call yourself a swapper. We swapped fair and square, you scoundrel!” 

Keith was closest as they floated past and he held out his hand. “Coran, grab on! We’re getting out of here.” 

Coran whooped as he climbed aboard, and in seconds, the landing bay and their escape was in sight. 

Hunk cleared his throat nervously. “So, just an innocent question, but how are we going to fit two cows on the pod?” 

“You worry too much! We’ll work something out, no problem.” Lance sounded confident, but Keith felt a spike of doubt. 

The trip back was going to be a very uncomfortable one, wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tower of movement tiles was wobbling dangerously, and Thace weighed the risk of having his marker sent back to the beginning of the circuit against the reward of activating the massage function on the seat this turn, which was the reward for completing a full circuit. If he could pull a movement tile from the middle range of the tower, Thace was confident in being able to do it without upsetting the rest, and that would put him in a good position to both pass Allura’s yellow territory and get the little massage on the next turn. 
> 
> The requests she asked for as payment for landing on her territory were harmless, but Thace understood now why Allura had eagerly snapped up the yellow tiles right at the beginning, even if it had slowed her first circuit considerably. It was the kind of strategy that only came from having played the game before. He was catching on now, though, and there was a green tile in a good position in the tower. Since he had the other two greens, Thace aimed for that one, and gently poked the tile with a claw-tip until the other end was far enough out from the rest to grab and pull. The tower tilted ominously for a tick but didn’t fall, so Thace ended up with the tile. 
> 
> Allura and Shiro clapped and offered congratulations on his steady hand respectively. Thace almost didn’t hear, as the question on the tile made something twist inside. “What was your favorite activity with your mother as a child?” 
> 
> How could he even answer that? Thace hadn’t had the fortune of knowing his brood-mother, and his few memories of his pouch-mother were so faint that all he really remembered was scent. The timer was ticking down on his opportunity to answer the question, but there wasn’t an alternative for not _having_ an answer, so far as Thace knew, so he braced himself for the shock. 
> 
> When it passed, and Thace’s fur fluffed out even more, both Shiro and Allura were looking at him with concern. Thace could only shrug. “I don’t remember either, not really. The closest I could offer would be the failed carrier assigned to teach my foundational studies singing lullabies to us instead of punishing the group for poor performance.” 
> 
> For a tick, there was no response, and then Allura got off her seat, tears shimmering in her eyes. Thace tensed, but all she had planned was a hug. The residual static shock made her yelp, but she didn’t let go, and Thace hugged back. He hadn’t really expected compassion, after her experiences, but receiving it was a sign to her character. 
> 
> Shiro joined in a moment later, getting a residual shock of his own. His expression was distant, and Thace suspected he had an idea of what punishments were. The hug couldn’t last, and when the others pulled back, both of them had fluffy hair, sticking out from their heads. Thace laughed a little, and gestured at his mane in response to the looks. Allura started giggling first, and Shiro followed while they all ineffectually tried to smooth down their hair and fur. 
> 
> When the laughter died down, Shiro pulled up the rules. “It says here that if the other players agree, someone who fails to answer can still be given the tile. I think we can both agree. Now, my turn; I want that turquoise territory!” 
> 
> Thace moved his marker the number of spaces on his new tile while Shiro reached for a turquoise colored tile near the bottom. The tower collapsed after a few wobbles when he’d gotten the tile out, and Shiro groaned. Allura clapped her hands in glee as Shiro set his marker on the first yellow space. “Your turn to wear something sparkly, Shiro!” 
> 
> Thace took a moment to smile and chuckle while Shiro picked through Allura’s jewelry box, and flicked his own weighed down ears when Shiro shot him a look. 
> 
> After Shiro had picked out a pair of rings and a necklace, Allura hummed thoughtfully and plopped her tiara on Shiro’s brow. “Perfect!” 
> 
> Shiro blushed, but his scent was happy and flattered. Thace felt his smile softening out of the gentle teasing. “A pleasure, Prince Shiro.” 
> 
> Shiro rolled his eyes, but his scent was still happy. Meanwhile, Allura smelled determined, and stretched her fingers out before reaching for the automatically remade tower. “Watch the game mistress do it, boys!”


	29. The Consorts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, but I'm finally satisfied with this chapter. The working title had been "non-sexual intimacy whee" so strap in for some loving fluff. 
> 
> Fun Facts:  
> \--Bonded partners/consorts will develop harmonized clicking buzzes that are released when they're feeling content and safe. Each frequency is unique to the pair (or occasionally, trio), so it also serves as a recognition tool.

Uncomfortable hadn’t been an understatement, but somehow, a cow chewing in his face wasn’t as bad as leering Galra. Keith had endured, and Lance had been thrilled the entire time, chatting on about milk, and ice cream, and butter with Hunk. (Pidge had claimed shotgun before they even got to the landing bay.)

Still, getting back to the Castle had been a relief, and Coran and Pidge rushed off to help the Olkari with the lenses. Sam had had an idea about how they could improve the Teludav, Keith remembered, and now that they had lenses, maybe they could implement it with the Olkari’s help. Hunk had gone with Lance to settle in the cows, and Keith—

Well, if anyone judged him for dragging Thace to their room, he’d give them the finger. Thace beamed at the supplements, saying they were the right ones, and confirming a booming black market for reproductive supplies in Imperial space. But Keith was distracted by Thace’s scent, his voice, his… everything. 

Thace hummed a happy note and pulled Keith into his lap, brushing their cheeks together. “You wanted me to yourself, didn’t you?” 

Keith returned the rub, shivering and breathless with it. “Yeah. So much—“ 

He’d put his hands to Thace’s fur, teasing at his ears because it was so great, but the fur was kind of stiff. Silky soft, but not really moving from what looked like having been artfully mussed up. A good look on Thace, sure, but— Glitter.

“Thace, why are you covered in glitter?” 

Thace’s hands settled at Keith’s waist while Thace laughed. “Jewelry wasn’t sparkly enough, apparently. You should see Shiro.” 

Keith was immediately hit by two contradictory urges. He really hoped there were pictures, because the thought of teasing Shiro (gently, of course) over jewelry and glitter was priceless. On the other hand, _glitter_. He groaned. “Glitter gets _everywhere._ We’ll be picking it out of our hair and clothes and sheets and everything for weeks!” 

Thace was grinning, smelling thoroughly amused at Keith’s reaction. He’d probably never had to deal with glitter in his life. “I’ve been assured,” he murmured, while brushing his cheek against Keith’s cheek and forehead and definitely transferring the glitter, “that the collector device will gather every stray fleck, and I thought you might like helping me groom it out.” 

Keith wanted to doubt but it was space. Who knew? Maybe they’d finally found a way to really contain glitter. The thought of grooming Thace was a good one. Not sexy, but Keith remembered that shower after Throk’s trial and how nice and close to Thace he’d felt.

So he nodded and got up to tug Thace into the bathroom. And had to stop and blink. It was very similar to the fur-dryer in Thace’s bathroom, but Keith swore it hadn’t been there before. They’d mostly been using the dry-shower anyway, but… Keith wasn’t that unobservant! Thace was warm behind him and chuckled. “I asked for a full set of grooming tools; I just finished putting it in place before you got back from the shopping center.” 

Oh! Keith turned around and nuzzled the top of his head against Thace’s chin, because it wasn’t easy to get higher. “Good idea. You’d probably look miserable and half-drowned without it.” 

“Feel it too. Come on.” Thace nudged him further in, and Keith trusted Thace to not put him at risk of tripping so he went. The collector device was shaped like a wand, and waving it over them did actually pick up a lot of glitter, so there was that! Keith was pretty sure that they would find more though, but he held his tongue. Showers were much more important right now.

They shed clothes and stepped under the water with echoing sighs. It felt so nice, and Keith promptly went to stroking his fingertips through the thick ruff over Thace’s chest. Thace rumbled happily, and copied the motion with the hair starting to grow in down Keith’s back, not even having to crane his neck to see. 

It felt so _good_ , soft and warm and safe. There was nothing else to focus on but Thace, and getting each other clean, and the very act filled Keith with an almost floaty sensation. He’d never felt it while showering before Thace; felt the opposite actually, wanting to rush and just get it over with. 

But the moment shattered like delicate glass when Thace’s hands crossed the line at Keith’s hips where purple faded to skin. Doubts abruptly hissed and lifted out of the back of his brain like striking snakes. Did Thace prefer him purple?

Thace’s hands stopped abruptly and a warble tripped over itself coming out of his chest. “Keith, what’s wrong?” 

“I just—“ Keith swallowed against the ‘it’s nothing’ that wanted to come out. Thace would know it was a lie. “I don’t know… Should I stay purple?” 

“If you want to—And that’s not the right answer, I see.” Thace pulled him close, and Keith went. He wanted the comfort, but it didn’t settle the doubts one bit. Thace probably felt it through the bond, and confirmed it a second later. “Can you put your worries in words?” 

“I—Ugh.” Words were hard. Keith didn’t know how to explain, and a dark snarl of frustration worked into him. He snarled at nothing, glad his face was against Thace’s chest. “No. I don’t know. Am I attractive?” 

Thace knelt abruptly, so that he had to look up to meet Keith’s eyes. It also meant that Keith would have to put effort into looking away. His expression was soft with empathy and Keith could feel a swell of concern, of care. Thace spoke like he was judging each word carefully. “Yes, you are. Since the moment I first saw you, having struck a blow and fighting so tenaciously, in spite of being bound. It’s never mattered what you look like, and it never will.” 

It was truth, Keith could _feel_ that. The doubts still writhed in his head anyway. “But I was brooding—“ 

“I’ve never been one to be swayed by scent. I have self-control.” There was a sharpness to Thace’s voice and it hurt, but it was true, all of it. 

Keith winced. “I just— I’ve never been wanted for _me_ , only what people thought was me.” 

He’d never really been disliked for his real self (whatever _that_ was) either, but that was something else entirely, and Keith knew that Thace definitely didn’t dislike him. Thace pressed a kiss to Keith’s forehead, having to stretch up and display the whole of his throat to do so from where he knelt on the tile. Keith knew how much trust had to go into a gesture like that, and it felt warm, but not as warm as Thace’s voice brushed against his skin. “I want to show you, in a way that you’ll feel down to your bones.” 

He reached over to grab the special soap and held it out to Keith. “Perhaps washing off that disguise will help.” 

It hurt and felt good to hear that promise, and Keith didn’t know how Thace was going to do it, but he could feel that Thace _meant_ it, and the doubts hissed back to the low, uneasy feeling that never quite went away. He wasn’t going to let the doubts win. He’d never backed down, even from his own fears and he wasn’t going to start now. So he picked up the soap, and in short order, lavender (and glitter, go figure) washed down the drain. 

Keith let Thace maneuver him out of the shower and wrap him in a towel, knowing he was safe. But the doubts were still on his mind. Thace was soaking wet, water dripping in rivulets through his fur to patter on the floor, but he insisted with the scent of stubbornness on drying Keith first. Clawtips combed through his hair, and fingerpads rubbed in slow circles over his skin, pressing in just enough to leave a warm feeling behind. Safe, good, not alone…

Thace kissed the top of Keith’s head, and abruptly started speaking. “I remember when I first got a waft of scent from your mane. It was pain and blood, and you had just vomited on my boots from the concussion, but under that was something unique. You’re only part Galra, and your scent says that, but it makes you stronger for it. There’s a sweetness to your scent that no Galra will ever have, and I wanted to figure out what it was from the first moment I scented it.” 

“I still don’t know,” Thace admitted with a little laugh, “but I’m still determined to find out, because I want to know all of you.”

Okay, wow. That filled Keith with a warmth that almost blew away the doubts entirely. Thace wanted to know _him_ , as he really was. His throat closed up, but they didn’t really need to talk, did they, because the bond shared things without words. 

Thace’s smile was soft and fond, and his scent wrapped around Keith like a warm blanket. He pressed kisses to Keith’s nose and cheeks. “And your face. You were confused and alone in that medical bay, but you still held yourself with poise, and the fierceness of your expression as you bluffed your way through that encounter. How could I not help you?” 

At this point, Keith just let himself melt, listening to what Thace was saying and letting the little coos and clicks shake out of his chest at the words. Thace pressed more kisses to Keith’s throat. “I don’t think anyone else realized you were conscious, but the bravery you showed then to let your throat be displayed so, when you were surrounded by so many who only wanted to harm and break you was enchanting. It goes above and beyond normal bravery; not even the bravest of Blades would be able to deny that you meet their courage.”

Kisses to his arms, his shoulders. Keith shivered, awash in the sensations. He felt Thace’s smile against his skin. “These arms, so deadly. The way you wield a sword so fluidly, and there’s such promise there. Someday you’ll surpass me, and the best of the Blades.” 

The kisses moved to Keith’s chest, lingering low where his heart was thudding in a pleasant way. “Your heart. You were surrounded by enemies, forced to struggle and strain to survive, but you didn’t break. You never even came close, and you _cared_ even when you thought I was one of those enemies.” 

_Lower_. Thace paused in the kisses to grin up at Keith, teeth flashing through his smile. “I don’t think I need to tell you how much your passion excites me, and how I strive to always match you and give you what you deserve, in spite of the fools who scarred you so.” 

The kisses to his thighs, his knees, lingered, turning to little licks that caught the last of the shower’s moisture. “You stand and fight, no matter what. It’s breathtaking. _You’re breathtaking._ Your principles, and the fluid way you move all delight me.” 

Keith didn’t have words for it right at that moment, so he just grabbed Thace by the ears as gently as he could and hauled his consort up for a kiss. Warm, soft, safe. Everything felt perfect like that moment when the sunlight hit things just right at dawn and turned the world to gold. Thace kissed back, a laugh on his lips and a rapid clicking in his chest. Keith found himself echoing the sound until it sounded like a buzz (Shiro had shown him a video of cicadas in summer once). It was an amazing sound somehow.

When they parted, Keith couldn’t let the praises go unanswered, and also Thace was still soaking wet. He grabbed a towel first to get the worst out, and kissed damp fur when he was done with each spot. Keith wanted to come up with something for each part like Thace had, but he wasn’t nearly as good at words, so he just started talking. 

“When I first smelled you, it reminded me of Shiro, almost. He’s been the only family I’ve had since my pop died when I was little. And I— You were an enemy, but when you picked me up and told me to be careful about the concussion I felt _safe_. Even in the throne-room where they were talking about doing all that horrible shit to me, I still felt mostly safe. Thank you for risking everything to speak up for me.” 

Keith got Thace’s upper body all toweled off and nudged him back to sit to tackle his legs. His thoughts were whirring, and he felt warm and kind of exhilarated, just letting it all out. 

“I thought about you, you know, that first night. About fighting together, and—“ Keith ducked his head, knowing his face was flaming, “and I didn’t know you then, but I’m glad it’s you. Korvulk might have respected me, but you did everything you could to help me. You got my weapons back, and taught me how to use the rules of the Rites to disqualify as many bastards as possible. You got me something to drink when I needed it, and gave me time to rest and gather my strength. You—“ 

Words failed him, so he just kissed Thace again. It helped soothe away the little tingle of want trying to flare up. Sex was great, but right now Keith didn’t want to think about sex, not really. He found the words again, as their mouths worked against each other. 

“That’s the biggest thing, I think. You respected me as a true equal even then, and you made sure to really _show_ it.” 

Thace hummed against Keith’s skin, and Keith was getting damp again, but that was fine. “Oh beloved. My fierce consort. I regret nothing, and I would do it all the same if I had to go back in time to do things over.” 

_Beloved_. Thace had never called him that before, and the feeling that rushed with it— How could Keith do anything but answer? “Beloved. My beloved, my consort.” 

They remained like that, in each other’s arms for who knew how long, but Thace finally pulled back. “We should finish drying off and grooming, or we’ll have to shower again to get our fur to lie straight.” 

“Your fur,” Keith answered back with a smirk. Thace just ruffled Keith’s hair with a knowing look in response. It was probably sticking up all _over_. “but yeah, let’s groom.”


End file.
